A Selkath Festival
by atoz
Summary: Three days' rest on Manaan for the crew of the Ebon Hawk does not sound like much fun until they get more than they bargained for...
1. Chapter 1: Rest and Relaxation

Chapter 1

Rest and Relaxation

On board the _Ebon Hawk_, the Main Hold was full with all its members present. Bastila looked around at all the wearied faces before proceeding with her arranged meeting.

"I realize that this mission has taken a heavy toll on us all," she began. "We have found three of the five Star Maps without much a delay in between. However, when I compare our performance on Manaan with the other worlds, we are not doing so well. Indeed, our fighting is sloppy and we have made some errors in judgment."

"Hey!" Jolee interrupted. "How was I suppose to know that right when I was saying that the Sith are stupid, one was standing right behind me?"

Bastila shot him glare. "In any case, we have all made errors. And so, I want to ask all of you: what do you think will improve our performance?"

"Well," Carth said, "I think that all we really need is some rest. It's just like you said, since this mission began, we've been working non-stop."

"I know," Bastila agreed, "but with each passing minute, the Sith are closer to gaining a hold over the Republic. The sooner we stop them, the better."

"That's true," Ayla said, "but I have to agree with Carth. Bastila, if we continue as we are, I fear we might make a fatal mistake. I wish that we could just keep searching for the Star Map as well, but our bodies aren't accustomed to that kind of stress."

"Yeah," Mission chimed in. "Everyone here deserves a break!"

Bastila sighed as she watched the other group members nodded their heads and made murmurs of agreement. _Do they not understand what's at stake!_ Bastila thought. _But I cannot make them work._ "Very well, we will all have 'a break.' However, this will be a short break, only lasting for three days starting tomorrow."

A few people cheered while others sighed with relief.

"So, where are we going?" Jolee asked.

"What do you mean 'where are we going?'?" Bastila asked.

"Where are we going to spend our time?" Jolee rephrased.

"I know a spot," Canderous interjected. "It's a small planet but I know that it will definitely appeal to you guys."

A mischievous grin spread across his face as he nudged Jolee in the ribs. He turned to whisper in his ear while Jolee eagerly leaned in to listen.

"No!" Bastila said firmly before Canderous had the chance to say anything. "We will not leave this planet."

A sudden silence descended on the Main Hold.

"Um, Bastila?" Carth said. "Frankly, this planet is a little boring."

Bastila glared at him. "I agreed to let you have a _three_ day rest and you are complaining about it? Be fortunate I allow you to have this break at all."

"Oh, yes, you are _most_ generous," Canderous said sarcastically.

"Do you really want me to cancel your rest then?" Bastila asked.

"Well, if it was going to be spent here, then maybe you should."

"Canderous," Ayla said, "we all need the rest, even you. Bastila, we would be happy to spend it on Manaan." Ayla turned to everyone. "If we try to leave, it will just waste time, and with our luck, the Sith will intercept us."

"Those were my thoughts exactly," Bastila said.

"Query: Master, can the droids attend this break as well?" the HK-47 asked.

"Sure," Ayla replied.

"Really, Ayla." Bastila turned to her, lowering her voice. "The droids do not need to rest."

"Well, what are they going to do, find the Star Map without us? Besides, HK seems eager to."

"I thank you, master. I shall take a leave of rest and relaxation."

"Um," Ayla hesitated, "you realize that rest and relaxation does not mean killing anyone, right?"

"Reply: Only at your command," the droid sighed, sounding disappointed.

"Well, then it's settled," Bastila said, "three days of rest here on Manaan."


	2. Chapter 2: Shlekfest

Chapter 2

Shlekfest

"There is absolutely _nothing_ we can do!" Mission cried in dismay.

The crew of the _Ebon Hawk_ had already left the ship at the docking port, either in small groups or individually. Mission naturally decided to pair up with Zalbaar, hoping together they would find something entertaining. However, it had already been a few hours for the Twi'lek and the Wookiee, and there appeared to be nothing of interest in the enclosed city of Ahto.

"I mean, Big Z, look at this movie theater, it's only showing _three_ (wow, count them), _three_ movies. And look at the choices: _A Gizka Love Story_ (which was voted the worst movie of the century next to _My Beautiful Droid_), _A Wookiee with a Lightsaber_ (which offended both Wookiees and Jedi), and what they call their 'newest feature', _Living Yesterday to Die Today_—released about a year ago on Taris!"

"Perhaps we can eat something?" Zaalbar suggested.

"Eat something? Do you know what they eat on this planet?"

"I'm not certain."

"Look at what he's eating," Mission said, gesturing toward a Selkath on a bench.

Zaalbar looked, noticing that he had what at first glance seemed like a green popsicle, except that it was a discolored, moldy green that had lumps all over it. One of the lumps popped, but the Selkath took no notice and continued to eat.

"Eww!" Zaalbar roared. "But that can't be what everyone eats!"

"Well, look over there."

Zaalbar turned and noticed a group of young Selkath, all eating brown fish pellets.

"There must be some normal food around here!"

"There is, but it's too expensive. I mean, that one restaurant that we saw back there a while ago was very fancy and when I caught a glimpse of their menu it was selling a bowl of old Rodian stew for 45 credits! We might as well starve to death or eat the food that we have on the Ebon Hawk."

"It's a wonder why the Selkath don't all kill themselves!"

"Don't be so dramatic."

They walked a little wihile longer until something caught Mission's eye.

"Hey," she said, nudging Zaalbar, "look at this."

Zaalbar looked in Mission's direction and saw a small sign. He moved in closer in order to have a better look. It showed a group of aliens of all races dancing in pairs. The sign read:

Come to Shlekfest

We are looking forward to seeing you there

"I wonder what that is," Mission asked herself.

"You do not know about Shlekfest?" a voice said in disbelief.

They turned to notice a Twi'lek woman standing behind them.

"We're new," Mission explained.

"Well," the young Twi'lek continued, "let me introduce myself. My name is Yesta and I'm coordinating the Shlekfest dance this year. Shlekfest is a festival held annually in which everyone appreciates being alive, lasting another year. It is the time for making amendments for any wrong doings and for doing things you always wanted to do, like asking that certain special someone to the dance. Businesses and schools are closed so that everyone can have a fun time—even our security can be a bit more lenient on Shlekfest!"

"Is that supposed to be a good thing?" Zaalbar whispered to Mission.

"Our biggest event, though, is the dance," Yesta continued. "There will be food, live entertainment, a beauty contest, and a dancing competition. Practically everyone is going. Interested?"

"Yeah," Mission said, excited at the prospect of something actually happening on Manaan.

"Great! Now tickets cost 160 single and 180 couple so it is far better to go with someone else than by yourself. The dance is formal with a strict dress code so you can check the list to see what you can wear."

"Where's the list?" Mission asked.

"The list is posted right in front of our dance hall."

"And where is that?"

"It's right by our movie theater."

"You mean the one showing _A Gizka Love Story_?"

"Which other movie theater is there? So . . . you want to go?"

"Oh, yeah! I have friends who might want to come, too!"

Zaalbar cleared his throat. "Will there be normal food?"

"Of course," Yesta replied. "We are trying to be more 'foreign friendly' so there will probably be some items on the menu that you would enjoy."

"All right," Mission said. "Oh, and one more thing, when will this dance be?"

"The dance takes place in four days from now."

"Hm. And three days beginning with tomorrow."

Yesta hesitated for a moment. "Um, yes?"

Mission turned to Zaalbar. "Isn't that some coincidence? The last day of our break is the same as the dance."

Zaalbar scratched the back of his head.

"Well . . ." Yesta said, beginning to inch away from the Twi'lek and the Wookiee, "if there's nothing else, I need to see to some things."

"Oh, sure. Thanks!"

Yesta gave a small smile at the two new potential attendees, then walked off.

"Did you see that?" Zaalbar asked in a whiny growl.

"See what?" Mission questioned.

"That woman spoke only to you. She didn't even look at me until I asked about the food."

"So?"

"I can tell, Mission. I can tell that she doesn't like Wookiees."

"Zaalbar, that's one of the dumbest things I ever heard you say. She was just talking to me because you weren't saying anything for the longest time."

"I bet she has lots of Wookiee slaves, too."

"Quit being silly. Now, come on! We have to try to contact the others and tell them about this!"

"So, what'd you guys think?"

Mission had returned to the _Ebon Hawk_ with the intention of contacting everyone. However, when she discovered that a majority of the crew was already there, eating their own rations for dinner, she decided not to bother with sending a message. Instead, she held her own meeting with the crew members present right outside the _Ebon Hawk_.

"What's this dance about?" Carth asked.

Mission took a deep breath, realizing that she was not the best person at explaining thing clearly when excited. "It has something to do with one of their holidays, Shakefast or something like that. Supposedly, you don't do any work and you change your life."

"What do you mean by 'change your life'?" Ayla questioned.

"Well," Mission said, "it means you do things differently or things that you always wanted to do."

"So it's a major change," Juhani said.

"Not exactly, what I mean is . . . well . . . this is our big chance to go to a dance and since it is a strange holiday and since the tickets cost only a few credits more for a couple than two people going on different tickets, then I was thinking that, you know, we should _all_ try to go and bring someone that we like."

"That's a great idea!" Jolee complimented. "Now, who wants to go with me, eh?"

No one spoke.

"You women here are just so stubborn!"

"Too bad, Jolee," Mission laughed.

"Well, I knew that no one would jump in, but if anyone gets desperate . . . besides, not everyone is here."

"You're right!" Mission said, sounding amazed. "Now, who isn't here?"

"Well, the HK-47 appears to be missing," Ayla said. "Bastila is missing as well. And Canderous."

"Are those the only three?"

Everyone looked around for a moment.

"So it seems," Carth said.

"If anyone comes across them, we should tell them about this," Ayla commented.

"I don't think _any_ of them would be interested," Carth laughed.

"You never know," Ayla said with a smile.

"Come on," Carth retorted, "a Jedi would never attend."

"I'm a Jedi."

"I meant a serious, conservative Jedi would never attend, and neither would a Mandalorian. And I doubt that a droid would be interested."

The T3-M4 beeped wildly but was ignored.

"Alright then," Mission said with finality. "Remember: formal, three days, and right next to the movie theater."


	3. Chapter 3: But Who to Go With?

Author's note: I wish to thank everyone who has read my story and especially to those who have reviewed it.

Rachil Farychild: Carth is one of my favorites but I don't know if I'm considered a Carthaholic (I really don't know the true definition of such a lable). Don't worry, though, Carth will not be left out.

Kuramas Girl Angel: I hope you will enjoy this next chapter.

Padme Evenstar: Indeed, there are many predictions to make. If Ayla does go to the dance with Carth, what about the others? And, as you suggested, I made this chapter longer. Lastly, you should stronglyconsider writing KOTOR fanfic. I've had a fun time writing KOTOR fanfic in particular.

Thanks again, and here's the next chapter:

Chapter 3

But Who to Go With?

Shortly after dinner, everyone wandered around the city, pondering whether or not to attend, what to wear, and who to go with. The atmosphere was intensified since the Selkath were also quite excited and the subject of Shlekfest was on everyone's mind.

Ayla soon encountered Bastila sitting upon a bench, staring at one of Manaan's elaborate fountains. Ayla approached her. "Hey, Bastila, how are you?"

"Just trying to free my mind of all the problems and complications," she sighed, "but it is quite difficult. I've been focusing on so many problems lately that I cannot seem to get away from them."

"Well, here's something that might help—there's going to be a dance around here, and a large one, too. It's supposed to be very nice."

"Where did you hear this from?"

"Mission first, but I've noticed that the Selkath are talking about it as well."

"It must be in relation to one of their holidays. Sounds interesting."

"Thinking about attending?"

"I don't believe so. I do not see a point to attending."

"It will be distracting."

"What kind of dance _is_ this exactly?"

"Um . . . a fun one?"

"No. I should not attend. And come to think of it, you should not either."

"Why not?"

"Because, it is part of your training. It is part of learning mental and physical discipline. Jedi do not attend dances. Do you understand?"

"Yes, but—"

"All right then, it is settled."

Ayla wanted to say more, but Bastila returned to her meditating posture, ending the conversation. Ayla sighed to herself, feeling disappointed, and left.

Meanwhile, HK-47 was standing by one of fountains, staring at a group of Selkath. He knew that he could not shoot them, despite the fact that he really wanted to, and so, he tried to visualize it. He imagined that one of Selkaths in the group suddenly got struck at the side of the head with a red phaser beam. The head would jerk violently away from the blast as green blood splattered all over his neighbor.

However, the HK soon became bored with this fantasy and was considering returning back to the _Ebon Hawk_ and shutting himself down when the T3-M4 rolled up to him.

"Query: What do you want?" the assassin droid asked, agitated by the utility droid's presence.

The T3 beeped in response.

"Query: Why would I care about some dance?"

The T3 gave a long series of beeps.

"Query: Is that what that meatbag, third-rate pilot said?"

The T3 beeped in agreement.

"Observation: This is indeed interesting. I could care less about a dance but just the assumption that we would not care annoys me. Perhaps I should teach that meatbag a lesson."

The T3 beeped excitedly.

"Statement: I'm certain that a simple assault rifle will bring about desired results quite satisfactorily."

The utility droid cried out.

"Statement: If this more about your 'droid morals', I could care less about that, too."

T3-M4 beeped a long explanation.

"Hmm. I do enjoy shooting but what you're proposing amuses me. Let me consider this for a moment . . . Yes, I do believe that your idea will work quite nicely in this case. All I need now is a partner . . . "

"So, you thinking about going to the dance?"

"Well, I'm considering . . ."

"What's bothering you?"

"You see, I—"

"Why don't you sit down and tell old Jolee all about it?"

Seeing that he had not much else to do, Carth seated himself next to Jolee on the bench. He had never spoken much to Jolee directly unless it was requesting for him to make more medkits. Then again, Carth knew he rarely spoke to anyone except Bastila because she was his flying partner, and Ayla because she was one of the few people he trusted over everyone else.

"So, what's your problem?" Jolee asked.

"Um—"

"Don't 'um' me, boy! Spit it out!"

_Maybe this was a bad idea. . . _Carth considered.

"Well?" Jolee continued, nagging him.

Carth released an irritated sigh. "It's just that I'm interested in going to the dance but I . . ." Carth hesitated as he looked over into Jolee's prying eyes.

"Sometimes," Jolee said in a softer voice, "the best thing to do is just to say what you're thinking. Be straight forward."

"Well, then," Carth began, "I want to go to the dance but . . . it's just I want to go with a particular person but I don't know how to approach her or even if I should at all."

Jolee chuckled. "You sound just like some teenage boy going on his first date."

"Well, it technically is. I mean, my first date in a long time."

"So, you afraid that she'll say 'no'?"

"Yeah. I'm also nervous if it will change her opinion of me. I don't want her to think that I'm . . . I just don't want her opinion to be less of me because I make a stupid mistake."

"Asking a girl to a dance isn't a stupid mistake. Here, let me tell you a story. . ."

_Uh-oh,_ Carth though, _Ayla warned me about Jolee's stories._ He quickly thought about making up some excuse on why he suddenly had to leave but then, considering that Jolee was trying to help, decided to hear him out.

"Back when the forests of Kashyyyk were just saplings," Jolee began, his mind reminiscing, "I was a young man with a full head of hair. I was also the best dancer that this galaxy has ever seen."

"You mean you actually used to dance?"

"Sure! Just because I'm old and frail now doesn't mean that I was always that way. Anyway, I'd travel to distant planets and wherever there was a dance, I was up for it. Really, the music and the type of dance didn't matter—it could've been the Ithorian mating dance but I didn't care, as long as I moved my body. Often times, there were dance-offs, and whenever that happened, I didn't hesitate. People would step into the circle, acting all arrogant, but I just did what I felt like and I would win. Pretty soon, I found myself good enough for actual dancing competitions."

"Wait . . . you did all of this in your youth? What about your Jedi training?"

"Heh. Heh. When you're far away from the Jedi Council on some sort of long mission, you have the time and it isn't like they are ever going to find out. Anyway, whenever I danced, I always brought a partner. Even if I was planning on dancing solo, it's no fun to go alone. Finding partners, though, was always so difficult. I was a handsome young man, so all the women would swoon over me. Mobs of them would line up, all wanting—"

Carth tried to suppress a laugh but Jolee noticed. "And what is so funny?"

"Really, 'mobs' of women were all desperate to go to the dance with you?"

"What? Not only was I popular and the best dancer, I was quite handsome and attractive in those days."

"Sure."

"Anyway, as I was saying . . . what was I saying? . . . anyway, all these women always wanted to go with me, you get the picture. However, no matter what, I would always pick someone who was a friend of mine. Some of the girls didn't like that because my choices of girlfriends were not always the popular ones, but I didn't care. I just wanted to have fun.

"Now listen up, this is where it gets important. I got so good, that I was allowed to enlist in this ultimate dancing competition that was taking place on Couruscant at the time. Great dancers from all over the galaxy were going to attend. Once again, I had to choose a partner. In truth, dancing with a partner was only one category compared to everything else but I was nervous. Instead of thinking who I might have fun with, I was considering bringing someone who was a good dancer. And so, I ended in picking not one of my friends but a woman named Klair Hinns. She really was an attractive young lass and a damn good dancer but I didn't know her all too well. At the time, however, I didn't care and so, I brought Klair to the dancing competition.

"I was doing so well for the first few categories of the dancing competition but when it came time for partners, I became so nervous. At first, everything was going just fine when suddenly, Klair tripped. She fell over, spraining her ankle and breaking her nose."

"Ouch."

"Yeah, that was a big ouch. And it became worse. Klair blamed everything on me, saying that I tripped her on purpose, and demanded credits from me to pay for the damages. I denied her accusations, refusing to pay at first until I realized that if the Jedi Council heard about this, that I would be in deep trouble."

"What did you do?"

"The only think I could do, I gave in. I gave her the money she requested and separated myself from her as best as I could. Never seen her since. Well, that's my story!"

"And how does this exactly relate to my problem?"

"Relate to your problem? I just wanted to tell you a story! Can't an old man tell you his stories, dammit! Just kidding. It does relate to your problem. I was just trying to say that you shouldn't worry. Go to the dance to have fun. And whoever it is that you want to bring, is she your friend?"

"I . . . think she is."

"What do you mean by 'think'?"

"Well, I do talk to her but I don't know what her feelings are towards me."

"Dammit, just tell me who she is and I'll tell you if she likes you."

"How would you know?"

"Trust me, I've had experience. Now, who is it?"

"It's . . ." Carth lowered his voice, "It's Ayla."

"Ayla!"

Carth cringed at Jolee's outburst. "Can you keep your voice down?"

"You really must be thick. Of course Ayla is your friend! She's the nicest person here and wouldn't hesitate to go to the dance with you."

Carth thought for a moment. "I'll take some things under consideration, but by tomorrow, I'll definitely have made a decision. Thanks."

"Hey, I love helping young people!"

"Just one last question: was that story really true?"

"I don't know. Just happens to be something I remember. Maybe my memories are faulty. Or maybe I made it up on the spot."

"In any case, real or false, I'm glad I talked to you."

Carth stood up and was about to walk back to the _Ebon Hawk_, when he realized that Jolee was still sitting on the bench. "Don't you want to head back to the _Ebon Hawk_? By our standard time, it's getting late."

"Oh, I'll be along shortly, just thinking some things out."

"Alright, I'll see you later then."

"And Carth, take advantage of these opportunities while you're young and handsome."

Carth acknowledged Jolee's request with a nod and began to head back.

"That is," Jolee grumbled, "before you get too old and no one wants you anymore."

Jolee sighed, once again sitting alone and brooding about the fact that none of the women would want to go with an old man to a dance. Just then, he heard a familiar, mechanical voice from behind. "Rhetorical Question: What is wrong with the female gender!"

Jolee looked over the backing of the bench and, just as he thought, saw HK-47 accompanied by T3-M4.

The T3 beeped for a few moments.

"Statement: That was a rhetorical question. Your thoughts on the subject are of no concern to me."

The utility droid beeped again.

"But threats are the best means of achieving one's way. What would you propose?"

The droid gave a few single beeps.

"Nice! Statement: Just asking females if they would want to attend the dance with me resulted in giggles, laughs, and comments of how cute I was."

Jolee strained his ears. _I've got to hear this!_

T3 continued to beep.

"Statement: But if I act nice, the gesture would seem more false. With a threat, it proves I am serious."

T3-M4 beeped for a while.

"Reply: I do not think that will work. Often times, when I am not referred to as an 'it' am called a 'he.' Therefore, if meatbags think of me as being a 'male droid,' asking some of the male gender would only insult their manhood."

T3 gave a few soft beeps.

"Query: You do not understand what that means? Perhaps I will later explain it as best as I can to your limited intelligence, but for now, who am I going with to the dance?"

The utility droid gave a few exciting beeps.

"Hmm. Someone on board the _Ebon Hawk_? I cannot threaten them as I would some inhabitant. Master would definitely hear about it and would not like it."

The T3 shyly beeped.

"Yes. Yes! She would be perfect!"

_Who?_ Jolee thought. _Who's perfect?_

"Statement: Let us wait for tomorrow morning to ask her. Tonight, help me rehearse what I am going to say."

T3-M4 beeped excitedly, rolling in circles around the HK.

_But who is it!_ Jolee thought angrily. _Dammit! Why didn't I ever learn to understand utility droid?_

HK-47 started to head off away from Jolee, cursing at T3-M4 for continuing to roll in circles. Jolee considered following them, hoping the HK would mention this woman's name but then thought better. It was late and he was getting tired. _But it better watch out! Tomorrow, Jolee will be on its trail!_


	4. Chapter 4: Ayla's Conflict

Author's note: Sorry this took so long. Thanks for being patient. And please continue to write reviews. I do take your ideas into consideration and enjoy reading them.

Chapter 4

Ayla's Conflict

Day 1

The roar of the swoop engine slowly died as Ayla crossed the finish line. She pulled her vehicle to the side of the track, where she was assisted by some Selkath. She climbed out of her swoop bike, still shaking form the excitement of the race, but also in disappointment. She and her bike had not exercised the sport for a while, and now, she found that she came in second to last place. True, the engine was malfunctioning slightly, but it was nothing that she could put the blame upon. As her swoop bike was being dragged away into the hanger for safe keeping, she headed to the exit of the swoop track.

_Wow, that was bad, _she thought. _Well, it could be worse._

As Ayla stepped outside, the crowd watching the telemonitors was still present, cheering the winner. She hoped to sneak past but the instant they saw her, the celebrating turned to sneers and jibes. Ayla quickly pushed her way past, ignoring them.

She made her way to the back of the room, planning on leaving the swoop track arena but not having a destination in mind. However, she caught sight of a familiar figure out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head and saw Canderous leaning against the wall, looking directly at her.

Happy to see a familiar face, Ayla walked over to his position.

"Was wondering if you were ever going to notice me," Canderous said, giving a small smile.

"What are you doing here?" Ayla asked.

Canderous shrugged his shoulders. "Watching the swoop racing. Got interested in the sport after living on Taris for a while. It isn't like there's much to do around here. And by the way, good job."

Ayla frowned. She could detect no sarcasm in his tone but she was not certain how else to treat that comment. "Did you see my heat? I did exceptionally bad."

"Compared to the other swoop racers, maybe, but your time was good. Even so, you were doing so well in the beginning that you probably would've won except for what I assume was an engine problem."

"I even noticed the problem beforehand, but there wouldn't have been enough time to fix it before the race, so I hoped I could've dealt with. I'm not surprised, though. Kind of had the feeling I was going to lose."

"And yet you raced anyway. Why?"

Ayla thought for a moment. "I just love swoop racing."

Canderous smiled. "Exactly."

"What do you mean?"

"Even though you were going to lose, you raced anyway, and raced as best as you could. Don't you see what I'm getting at?"

"You . . ." Ayla hesitated but then remembered who she was talking to. "You are relating my swoop racing to the Mandalorian Wars?"

"Right. I'm often asked why we invaded such a great power as the Republic, but the timing was just so prefect. Sure, we knew that losing wasn't too distant an outcome, but we fought anyway."

"Your people love battle. And even though you did lose, your people will be remembered."

Canderous seemed surprised. "Very true."

Suddenly, Ayla heard the sound of boos. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that some of the swoop fans were not letting up on the insults.

"Let's get out of here," Canderous suggested and started to walk off.

Ayla was quick to follow and together they exited the swoop track arena.

It was not until the building was out of site that Ayla became more relaxed. She considered continuing her conversation with the Mandalorian when something caught her eye. She focused on it, realizing it was a brightly lit sign promoting the Selkath festival. Indeed, she had heard much about the festival and seen a few advertisements, but none were as colorful or revealed as much information about it as this one.

_Hm . . ._ Ayla thought, _looks interesting. Food. Dancing. Live entertainment. Games. No, I can't go. It's probably not that great, anyway. But it is something to do. And what harm is done? No, I won't go against what Bastila said._ Her thoughts were soon cut off by Canderous' voice, but she could not make out what it said.

"What?" she said, sounding dazed.

"You thinking about going?" Canderous asked, gesturing towards the sign.

"Um . . ." Ayla hesitated, wondering why Canderous would want to know, "not really. It's kind of expensive."

"Yeah."

Ayla continued to stare at the sign for a moment until she realized how quiet it was. She turned to Canderous and saw him staring at the sign as well.

He continued to look at it for a moment, reading the descriptions, until his eyes turned to Ayla. Seeing that he was being watched, he quickly folded his arms and turned his head to the ground.

"There's nothing to do around here," he continued. "I mean, the only thing seems to be this stupid dance. It must be the biggest thing all year."

"Yeah, it's supposed to have live entertainment and plenty of food. Earlier today, I saw the building that they were hosting it at and it was _huge_, probably the largest building in the city."

"I bet."

-------------

Not far away, Carth was briskly walking towards the swoop track. Earlier he was at the _Ebon Hawk_, hoping that Ayla would be there, but when he saw that both she and the swoop bike were missing, he decided that the swoop track would be the next best place to look for her.

He could barely hear the crowds around him as he was preoccupied with his own thoughts. _Just go straight out and ask her. "Would you like to go to the dance with me?". . . but what if she gets the wrong idea? Dammit, she's a Jedi! Jedi don't go to dances. No, she's not a typical Jedi. I've already thought this through. I'm just going to ask her and see . . . _

Carth's feet abruptly stopped. Ayla was just ahead of him—but also Canderous. By the looks of it, the two of them were talking about something. He watched them for a moment and considered not approaching her at all. _Damn you, Canderous! Of all the people she could be talking to, why does it have to be you? No, I won't let Canderous prevent me from doing something important._

He forced himself to approach them. At first, they did not see him, but when he forced a cough, they finally noticed.

"What do_ you_ want?" Canderous asked in a snide manner.

He thought he had everything figured out, but Canderous' rude greeting only made him angry. He never liked the Mandalorian and they would often try to avoid confrontation. He desperately wanted to yell at him, but he could not do it, not in front of Ayla.

"Ayla," he said, giving Canderous a sideways glance, "can I speak to you later? Alone? Without anyone else?"

"Sure," Ayla replied, trying to sound pleasant even though she knew very well of the hatred the two of them had for each other. "I'll see you shortly."

Carth nodded. "I'll meet you back on the _Ebon Hawk_."

He forced himself to give Ayla a small smile despite the presence of Canderous and quickly headed back in the direction of the ship.

------------

"You really shouldn't be so mean to him."

"What? I don't like him. He oozes Republic ideology."

"You could at least pretend to get along with him."

"That would be . . . very un-Mandalorian."

"It isn't un-Mandalorian and you know it."

Canderous sighed. "Can we change the conversation?"

"To what?"

He was silent for a moment, then jerked his head towards the Shlekfest sign. "You weren't thinking about going, were you?"

"You already asked me that earlier," Ayla replied.

"Right."

Ayla frowned. There was something suspicious in his manner. "Were _you_ thinking about going?"

"No! Why would I go to something like _that_?"

"I don't know, maybe if you were extremely bored. You did bring it up again."

"What else is there to talk about?"

Ayla shrugged her shoulders. There was another pause.

"Canderous," Ayla said softly, making a guess about where he wanted to take the conversation, "were you trying to ask me to go to the dance?"

Canderous cleared his throat. "Well, I just thought that . . . I mean, there's not much else to do and . . . it's not the sort of thing you would go to . . . alone, is it?"

She gave him a warming smile. "Sure, I'd like to go to the dance with you."

Canderous' lips formed a small smile in return. "Well, then . . ." he nodded his head slightly, "that's good."

He reached over and heavily placed a hand on her shoulder. At first, Ayla was uncertain of the gesture and regarded it just as something Canderous does until she suddenly remembered that Mandalorians would place their hands on each other's shoulders as a sign of camaraderie. She could not recall where she had heard of this but something inside told her it was true. And so, she extended the arm which Canderous laid his hand on top of and rested it upon his shoulder.

He seemed pleased by the gesture and smiled in a manner that she had never seen from him. She could almost regard it as even a friendly smile.

Ayla felt like speaking again to him, but he let his arm fall back to his side and began to turn away. She knew she could always call out his name and try to continue the conversation but decided that this was perhaps a better way of ending it. Even so, she knew she would have other opportunities to talk to him.

It was not until he was no longer in sight Ayla realized that she could indeed be in trouble with her Jedi mentor.

Jolee did not even try to suppress his yawn. He felt as if he had seen everything in Ahto City and nothing appealed to him; the theaters were showing old movies, swoop racing was dull, and he had no one to go with to the dance.

A vacant bench looked rather inviting, so Jolee sat down, giving his legs a rest, and started to think. For a while, he was preoccupied with the HK and who it could possibly want to bring, but having not seen the droid all day made him lose interest. _And besides,_ Jolee thought, _what about me? I should start considering who I might go with, not about what that killing machine might do._

Just then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a break in the dense crowd of Selkath, revealing Mission. She, too, was sitting on a bench across the large threshold. Jolee waved, but she did not respond. Her head rested on one of her hands and was bent towards the ground. She seemed so sad, sitting alone, that it made Jolee feel sad as well. Mission was always the one to be so cheerful, lifting the crew's spirits when they were upset. In fact, Jolee could not remember a time when he had never seen her sad, even though he was well aware that she suffered the burden of witnessing the destruction of her planet.

But suddenly, he had an idea. _I'm going to make her happy and I know just how—Mission, how about going to the dance with me?_

Jolee leapt from his seat, eagerly approaching Mission.

-----------

"Exclamation: There she is!"

HK-47 extended a jointed finger, pointing at the young Twi'lek sitting on the bench.

T3-M4 beeped wildly.

"Assurance: Do not worry. I shall not forget all that I have learned."

HK-47 locked his optic sensors on his target and approached with the same determination as when about to attack an unassuming hostile.

----------

Mission sat lethargically on the bench. Everything was so repetitive and uniform, it was like she already knew the whole planet. And worst of all, she was in a rather boring disposition. _Why did Zaalbar have to see "A Gizka Love Story"! Geez, I hope that it isn't too much longer! It's already been three hours!_ Her unfocused eyes still remained on the ground as she tried to get lost in her own thoughts and forget the time she was wasting. It was a trick she was rather good at and sometimes used it during the long space flights when no one else wanted to do anything with her. This trick was often just considered simple daydreaming, but to Mission, it prevented her from dying of boredom. Even so, she became so entranced with her thoughts, she did not see the two crew members running towards her.

----------

If Jolee had not been so enthusiastic, he would have gone around the large group of Selkath that suddenly converged on his path. Instead, he found himself trying to go straight through them, refusing to deviate. He tried to weave around the bodies, but the task was impossible. The Selkath were so tightly packed that it left little space for him to maneuver. He tried to call out for them to move but they acted even more resistant, moving closer to each other.

Worried that he might lose sight of Mission or make a sudden disappearance, Jolee did what was his last available option—he used Force Wave, knocking down the surrounding aliens. Their cries of shock as they fell to the ground were barely noticeable to the old man as he proceeded onward, stepping on some if necessary. It was then he knew that nothing would stop him from asking Mission.

---------

A group of young Selkath children happened to be playing right in the way of HK-47. He hated the sight of children laughing and playing, and decided for his own personal enjoyment to ruin it. He pushed past them, knocking some down. Some of the children cried out, but his auditory sensors were tuned out as all his energy was focused solely on Mission. Nothing would stop him from asking her.

----------

_This is ridiculous!_ thought Mission, pulling herself out of her daydreaming. _I might as well just sit through "A Gizka Love Story" as well. Maybe it has its good moments, or better, maybe it's at the end._

She stood up from her seat but did not take more than a few steps . . .

---------

"Mission!" Jolee shouted.

The young Twi'lek turned in his direction and gave a small smile.

He was about to say more when he was tripped by an angry Selkath for knocking him down. Jolee stumbled but attempted to keep his balance. His arms waved in the air, trying to grab at something to hold him up. However, the only thing he was able to grab was Mission.

He heard her cry out his name as she slouched forward with his weight, but he knew they were not going to fall over. She still stood firmly while he still had his tight grip. _Oh, well,_ he thought, _so much for first impressions._

But just then, HK-47 pushed past a person that was standing in his view of Mission. When he was able to see her again, he had already bumped into her and both sides fell to the ground.

HK-47 and Jolee quickly sat up, glaring at one another in both surprise and anger until they heard Mission groaning.

"Proposition:" began HK-47, "Let me help you up."

The droid grabbed Mission by the arm and slowly began to bring her up from the floor.

"Wait," said Jolee, grabbing her other open arm, "Let _me_ do it."

Together, they brought Mission to her feet.

"Wha-what's the big idea?" asked Mission, glancing at each of them. "Why did you guys run into me like that?"

"Mission, I have something very important to say to you," Jolee said, out of breath.

"As do I," said HK-47.

One tried to speak before the other could, but they ended up instead speaking simultaneously: "Will you go to the dance with me?"

"What?" Mission asked, incredulously. "Is this a joke?"

"Wait," Jolee said turning to HK-47, "_I_ want to go to the dance with Mission!"

"As do I," the droid said.

"No, you can't! I-I-"

"Interruption: We both asked at the same time. Hm. Interesting."

"Interruption:" Mission mimicked, "What's going on? You _both_ want to go with me to the dance?"

"I guess so." Jolee replied, still trying to accept the idea. "I mean, I had no idea the droid wanted to, too."

"Oh," Mission said, slightly embarrassed. "So then, um, I guess I'm going to have to pick."

"No!" HK-47 blurted. "Statement: You don't have to do a thing, my dear, Jolee and I will decide for you."

"Whatever you say, I'm not going to agree with it," Jolee said folding his arms in stubbornness. "Whatever deal or offer, nope; I _really_ want to go with Mission!"

"Proposition: My suggestion is not that we make an agreement, but that we fight over her!"

"Fight?" Mission and Jolee both exclaimed simultaneously.

"But you can't do that here," said Mission. "Remember? Security is strict."

"Jolee and I with fight outside on the cargo docks where there is no security."

"Fight?" Jolee repeated, still overwhelmed.

"Yes, fight. Fight just like how in nature, male animals fight over their mates, and we shall do the same."

"Yeah?" said Mission. "But this is just for a dance, not for some mate."

"Of course," said HK-47, hesitantly.

"Don't worry, Mission," Jolee said, assuredly, "I'll fight him."

"Excellent," the droid said, rather maliciously. "Jolee, how about we meet outside the _Ebon_ _Hawk_ tomorrow at six, and from there, we go out and find a location most suitable for the fight."

"In the morning?"

"In the morning."

"And, um, this won't be to the death, right?"

The droid let out an agitated sigh. "Fine. This will only be for a. . . knockout."

"Got it."

Jolee and HK-47 shook hands and set off in different directions, their minds welling in hatred of the other. Meanwhile, Mission just continued along her original course to the theater.

Ayla was still troubled by the prospect of going against Bastila's instructions, but also felt that Bastila was perhaps not acting within her ordinary norm. She seemed so much more troubled and frustrated even though these next few days were supposed to be spent relaxing. And what was worse was Ayla did not know what to do about it. Bastila was her mentor and confident in her own abilities. _If I try to contact her directly, she'll probably deny her actions or find some sort of justification in it._

However, as soon as she caught sight of the _Ebon _Hawk, she pushed her present thoughts to the back of her mind. Even though she was not in the mood to talk to anyone, she knew she should still speak to Carth after telling him she would meet him. _I don't have to talk to him for very long, just enough for him to say what he wants. I still need to find a solution to my problem._

After boarding the ship, she went straight to the cockpit and, just as she assumed, Carth was sitting in his usual pilot's seat. He turned around as he heard the footsteps and smiled when he saw her.

"Hey, Ayla," Carth said, standing from his seat to face her.

Ayla forced herself to give a friendly smile despite the troubled thoughts in her mind.

"Hi, Carth, you wanted to speak to me about something?" she said, wanting to get the conversation over with.

"I've just been noticing that you've been acting . . . differently."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it's just that you've been acting more . . ." Carth hesitated, trying to find the right word, "Jedi-like."

"Carth, I am a Jedi."

"I know, I know. But you didn't always used to act like this even when you became a Jedi."

"How so?"

"Well, for one thing, you used to be more independent, and now you just seem to listen to Bastila."

"Bastila's in charge."

"I know, but I when we were on Taris, you didn't let her push us around and even told her off a couple of times. Remember when you told her that she underestimated us 'non-Jedi?'"

"I remember."

"Well, you are a Jedi now, so I guess it doesn't mean much to you, but still, you've also become a lot stiffer."

"I'm just trying to abide by the rules more. In fact, I'm not as stiff as a Jedi should be."

"But . . . you aren't like a normal Jedi. There's more to you than that. You're . . . you're better than that."

Ayla paused for a moment. "Carth, I really need to try to behave more like a Jedi. No question about it."

"But they're destroying who you are. They're taking your identity and molding it into their own image. You're a unique person. Don't let them take that away from you."

Ayla gave a weary smile. "I do sometimes struggle with the Jedi ways, but in order to be a Jedi, I have to abide by them. I can't just decide which rules to follow and which ones not to."

Ayla turned her face away from Carth. His conversation was making her feel worse about the decision she made and regretted talking to him at all.

"You didn't ask to be a Jedi," Carth continued. "The decision was forced upon you."

"Carth, that's enough," Ayla said and started to leave.

"Wait!"

Ayla stopped and reluctantly looked back at the pilot. "What?"

"I-I didn't mean to make you upset," Carth said, turning his face to the ground. "I just . . . want you to be happy, that's all."

The Jedi's lips formed to make a small smile. "I know. Maybe you're right. Perhaps I'm being a little stiff."

She was about to leave again when Carth said her name. She turned back. "Yes?"

"I also wanted to . . . ask you about something."

Ayla nodded her head, encouraging for him to continue.

"It's just . . . do you want to go to the dance with me?"

When Ayla could see the suspension in Carth's face and hope in his eyes. She feigned a cough in order to find a more delicate way of answering.

"I would love to, but I can't," she said earnestly.

"Don't tell me that Bastila has forbidden you to go," Carth said seriously.

Ayla nervously laughed. "No, it's just that I'm already going with someone else."

"Oh," Carth said, looking crestfallen, "who're you going with?"

Ayla took in a deep breath. _This could be bad._ "Canderous."

Carth raised his eyebrows, his face betraying his evident surprise. "Canderous!"

Ayla nodded.

Carth turned away and sat heavily in his pilot's seat.

"We could do something together next time," Ayla suggested.

"Why Canderous?" Carth asked, staring at the control panel. "That Mandalorian hasn't a shred of decency."

Ayla sighed, knowing that no matter what she said concerning Canderous would only make Carth even more upset.

"You could still go to the dance," she said, changing the subject.

"On second thought, I don't know if I should."

"Why not?"

"I'm not really into those sorts of things."

"Then why did you ask me?"

"I just don't see much of a point if I can't go with someone."

"Well, there are other people you could ask."

Carth turned to face her. "Like who? Mission thinks of me as being old and will probably end up with Zaalbar. Juhani hates men—"

"What makes you say that?"

"It's a painfully long story that I'd rather not get into. Anyway, and Bastila . . . well, is Bastila."

A smile crept over Ayla's face. "That's it!"

"What?"

"You can go with Bastila!"

"No. No way. I don't think I can even have a decent conversation with her, much less invite her to a dance!"

"Come now, Carth, don't tell me you're afraid of her."

"She's not going to agree."

"You were just telling me earlier that I was being too stiff. Well, I think that Bastila has become really stressed. In fact, while everyone is taking these three days off, she isn't. She hasn't done anything relaxing except trying to meditate, and even then she tells me she can't stay focused."

"Well, what she wants to do on her days off is up to her."

"But she seems so stressed. Please, Carth, at least go over and ask her."

Carth let out a long sigh. "Fine. Fine. You could go with Canderous, and I could probably go with Bastila."

"Thanks, Carth."

"Well, don't thank me yet. This might not work. Besides, do you even know where she is?"

"She's probably—"

"Right behind you."

Ayla and Carth spun around. Standing right inside the entry way to the cockpit was Bastila, her face flushed and eyebrows furrowed with evident anger.

Carth gave Ayla a cursory glance before turning back to Bastila. "You've been eavesdropping!" he said accusingly.

Bastila's eyes flared. "No, Carth. I went to the cockpit with the intention of checking the ship's systems because I figured with the three days rest, no one would do such a task. Anyway, you both talk so loud, your voices echo, so I could not help but to hear a mention of Ayla going to the dance with Canderous," she shot Ayla a fiery glare, "and an idea concerning Carth bringing _me_ to the dance."

"Bastila, I can explain," Ayla said, trying to save the situation. "I just thought that you could—"

"This is not about me," Bastila snapped. "Ayla, I am _very_ disappointed in you. When I give you instructions, I expect them to be fulfilled to the best of your ability. Not only have you disobeyed me, but you did it behind my back, just proving how much you regard my guidance. And now you conjured an elaborate scheme concerning bringing me to the dance."

"Aren't you overreacting?" Carth asked. "Going to a dance isn't a crime. And your friends being concerned about you is not some sort of scheme."

"I do not expect you to understand, Carth," Bastila said, keeping her focus on Ayla. "This relates to the principle of obeying Jedi orders."

Ayla found herself unable to say anything. There was nothing she really could say to make things better. The situation still stood—she disobeyed Bastila's orders.

Perhaps Carth would have said more, but Bastila abruptly left the cockpit, leaving the two of them alone.

"Ayla," Carth said in a consoling voice, "you have done nothing wrong. In fact, you're right. Bastila is acting very odd."

Ayla shook her head. "I'm sorry. I . . . I need to be left alone for a little while."

Before Carth could say anything more, Ayla left the cockpit and headed towards the exit ramp, deep in her own thoughts.


	5. Chapter 5: Carth's Conflict

Author's note: Thanks everyone for your reviews!

The Lady Revan: Bastila is acting quite strange. Everything will become clearer as the story continues.

gt3.14159: I'm glad to hear from another Canderous fan! Canderoushas been one of my personal favorites ever since I brought him out on Dantooine (long story).More fanfics should be about Canderous, hmmm?

LuvsDelkoSpeed: Either way, with HK or Jolee, would be a strange combo with Mission. However, there is a reasonbehind it.

Psychic Werewolf Assassin: I love odd pairings!It makes things much more interesting. I'm not certain about Zaalbar going with Juhani or T3but anything's possible.

Sorry if I didn't write back to your review but my time is limited!

Additional note: In some of my previous chapters, the transitions between events (i.e. different people talking) did not show up when I would transfer from Word to this site. I have edited those chapters and made certain to look over this chapter before posting. Sorry for the confusion.

Chapter 5

Carth's Conflict

It was by chance that Carth had spotted Bastila, once again sitting by one of the fountains. He briskly approached her. "Bastila!"

The Jedi looked over. The instant she recognized him, her face turned into a scowl. "Carth, I desire to be alone."

"No," Carth said conclusively and sat down next to her. "We're going to talk about this now."

"Really, there is nothing to talk about."

Carth sighed. _This is going to be difficult_. "Bastila, you shouldn't get mad at Ayla."

"A Jedi does not get angry. I'm just . . . disappointed that she disobeyed me."

"Going to a dance does not lead to the Dark Side."

"Disobeying your masters does. And Carth, I would rather not hear _your_ opinions of what Jedi can and cannot do. You are not one and therefore cannot understand us."

Carth paused, deciding that he should try to take the conversation down a different route, the one he hoped might be able to settle the matter. _I'd better be right about this._

"Bastila," Carth began, "would you like to attend the dance?"

Bastila rolled her eyes. "A Jedi does not attend—"

"But what if it was with someone who really wants to go with you?"

Carth tried to look sincere but Bastila met him with a hard stare, probing him for an ulterior motive.

"Are you trying to tell me that you want to go to the dance with me?"

Carth hesitated, worrying that her question might have another meaning. "Yes."

Bastila frowned. "I do not find this to be very humorous."

"What're you talking about?"

Her eyes blazed. "Really, Carth, I know what this is about. I did not forget the conversation you had with Ayla."

"I—"

"You wanted to go with Ayla to the dance, not me. She is the one who proposed that you should go with me."

Carth bit his lower lip. "Just because I wanted to go with Ayla initially doesn't mean that I don't respect you or that I don't want to go with you."

"Don't lie to me!" she shouted. "You're just asking me as a last resort, because there are no other available females."

"That's not true!" Carth shouted back.

"You're a typical male, Carth. You want to go with me so that your ego would not be punctured. Or maybe you wish to make Ayla jealous?"

Carth stood up, his face flushed. "I don't have to listen to this!"

Bastila continued to speak, but Carth was not listening. He already had his back to her, making his way towards the _Ebon Hawk_.

-----------

". . . I mean, I don't know how such a thing could've rolled around! HK and Jolee? How does that work? They had never shown _any_ interest in me and now suddenly they both want to go to the dance with me? It doesn't make any sense! What d'you think? What d'you think I should do?"

Zaalbar pondered this for a moment. "I don't like it. Can't you just refuse them both?"

"I guess I could but . . . they are going to fight for me after all."

"Well, they haven't fought yet. Tell them you don't want to go."

"But that's another thing . . . I _do_ want to go! I didn't think I was going at first because I figured that no one would actually _want_ to go with me. Now, it's like my wish had come true but it's just . . . weird, that's all."

"Then why did you bother asking me! You seem to have your mind made up!"

Mission hesitated for a moment. "Do you think I'm doing the right thing, then?"

Zaalbar sighed. "I suppose so."

"I know it sounds weird, but it'll be interesting," Mission smiled, "and besides, I've never been fought over before."

------------

Carth, with head in his hands, sat on the ramp leading to the _Ebon Hawk_. He had felt awful ever since that confrontation between Bastila and Ayla. All he wanted to do was attend the dance with Ayla but nothing was ever as easy as it seemed. His greatest anxiety when he was considering asking her earlier was just that she would somehow become insulted and never speak to him again. Now, this fear was actually occurring, but with more twists; Bastila now seemed she would always remain suspicious of Ayla's intentions, and because of this Ayla would probably never remain on friendly terms with her mentor. And Carth was stuck in the middle of it all with no plausible solution.

_Asking Bastila to the dance was a complete failure,_ he thought. _Now she not only hates me but will probably hate Ayla even more. What am I saying? I'm overreacting. After this dance is over, everyone will be back to their normal selves. Right?_

He heard the sound of footsteps approaching his position. When he looked up, he was reminded of another horrible twist—Canderous.

The Mandalorian was not even looking at him but instead at the ship's entrance. He strode past Carth without the slightest movement of acknowledging his existence and proceeded up the ramp. Carth continued to watch him, feeling aggravated with every step he took. Right before Canderous entered onto the ship, Carth decided he could not sit passively any longer.

"Canderous!" he called out.

The Mandalorian turned, his face pasted with a wry smile. "I knew you couldn't resist." He stepped up to Carth's position. "So, what does the gracious Republic soldier want with an evil Mandalorian? You'd better be careful, Carth, any moment now I could pull out a blaster and fry your head off. We Mandalorians are quite fond of malicious—"

"Dammit Canderous," Carth interrupted, "this isn't about the war."

The smirk disappeared from Canderous' face as he became serious. "What, then?"

Carth hesitated. The instant he saw Canderous, he was sure he had to speak to him, but now he wished he could have waited. He would have liked to plan out what to say instead of looking foolish. However, he knew he could not back down at this point. "I was just wondering . . . you asked Ayla to the dance?"

"What's it to you?" Canderous asked brashly.

"It's just that I had planned on going with Ayla."

Canderous' smile returned. "Oh, so you're jealous?"

Carth could feel his face heating up with both anger and embarrassment. "I'm _not_ jealous. It's just that . . ." Carth released a heavy sigh. "Maybe sitting around in the swoop hangar makes you blind to everything that happens on the ship but Ayla and I—"

"Oh, so you and Ayla are _close_," Canderous said mischievously.

Carth squeezed his hands together, barely able to contain his anger.

"No, we're good friends."

"_Friends_," Canderous smirked.

Carth decided it would be best to let the matter slide from conversation. "Anyway, considering that _I_ am her friend, why did you ask her?"

"I didn't know Ayla could only have one friend at a time."

Carth sighed. "Look, this is one chance I could have to spend time with Ayla. Can you please back down? Just this once?"

"I was right, you _are_ jealous."

"I'm not jealous!"

"_Sure_."

"You're definitely not a friend of hers! Why did you ask her?"

Canderous paused for a moment. "You really want to know?" he asked in a quiet voice.

Carth could only nod in response, surprised at Canderous' tone. Never before had he heard his enemy speak to him in such a soft voice.

Canderous scanned the area, checking to see if anyone was nearby, and leaned over. He whispered into Carth's ear. "Because it's all part of an evil Mandalorian scheme to take over Manaan."

Carth did not reply, feeling stupid that he actually thought Canderous would say something sincere. This feeling quickly changed to anger as Canderous reeled back and began to laugh out loud. "For once, can't you be serious?"

Canderous snickered. "I would but it's just you're so gullible."

Carth let out an agitated sigh. "You knew I would ask her, didn't you? You don't like Ayla, you don't like anyone. You just did this to get back at me."

Canderous frowned. "You really _are_ paranoid! If I wanted to get back at you, I wouldn't ask your girlfriend to the dance."

"I don't trust you and I don't trust you with her!" Carth pointed his finger at him. "If you hurt her, you're dead!"

Canderous raised his eyebrows. "That's . . . a bold statement coming from you."

Carth took a deep, calming breath. He, too, was shocked for saying such a thing.

"Is that all?"

Carth stared at Canderous for a moment, surprised by the question. "Um . . . yes."

Canderous turned his back and briskly walked off into the ship's interior. As Carth watched him retreat, he knew he had to keep his eyes on him.


	6. Chapter 6: The Duel

Author's Note: Hello, everyone! Sorry it took so long to update. I'll try to post this story more regularly but I can't guarantee it. Anyway, have fun reading and please review!

Chapter 6

The Duel

Day 2

Jolee opened his mouth, not even attempting to suppress the yawn. He had been standing in front of the _Ebon Hawk_, waiting for HK-47 to arrive for what seemed like practically the whole morning. The artificial lighting had been increasing rapidly in brightness as the day progressed, and Selkath, dock workers, and other incoming aliens were passing by more frequently.

"This is stupid," Jolee murmured to himself. "Since I know HK wouldn't back down from a fight, he's being late just to annoy me." Jolee sighed. "This whole fight thing is dumber than a Mandalorian mercenary anyway—"

"Hey! I heard that!"

Jolee turned around to find that Canderous was coincidentally right behind him, leaving from the _Ebon Hawk_.

"You know that I was joking, right?" Jolee asked, not wanting to be enemies with an assassin droid and a Mandalorian at the same time.

"You just better start watching out what you say," Canderous said, giving Jolee a cold stare, and continued to move down the ramp.

Jolee waited until he was out of sight before speaking again. "But in any case . . ." he nodded his head determinedly. "If you can win this one, Jolee, it'll _really_ puncture that droid's pride! Now, that's worth seeing!"

"Query…"

Jolee already knew who the mechanical voice belonged to before turning around.

"Is it a human quality to talk to ones' self or is it a sign of extreme old age?"

Jolee chuckled. "Laugh all you want but I want to see how well you can use a _melee_ weapon."

The droid seemed to hesitate for a moment. "Statement: I never agreed to fight with a melee weapon."

"Well, we have to make it fair," Jolee explained. He unhitched two vibroswords from his belt. "You'll fight with one and I'll fight with the other."

"Suggestion: How about we simply use whichever weapon we chose? You may use your Jedi lightsaber and I will use the upgraded assault rifle."

"You mean you can't use a melee weapon?" Jolee said, trying to sound incredulous and insulting. "A well-built, best-in-its-class assassin droid can't use a blade?"

HK-47's red eyes increased in intensity. "Statement: Of course I can use a melee weapon!"

"Well, then," Jolee said, approaching the droid and holding out a vibrosword, "use one."

HK-47 tilted his head from side to side, viewing the weapon from different angles.

"It's the _sharp_ end you use to stab people with," Jolee said condescendingly, "and you hold—"

HK-47 grabbed the hilt and snatched the weapon out of the ex-Jedi's hands, nearly cutting him. "Statement: I know how to use a melee weapon."

The droid looked down at the mechanical hand gripping the weapon. He moved his arm as he scrutinized the blade.

Jolee cleared his throat. "So, weren't we going outside to do this?"

HK turned to Jolee. "Query: Why are you so insistent upon going to the dance with Mission? In my assessment, you have never displayed any feelings toward the Twi'lek, so I can only conclude that your desperation is the result of a hatred directed at me. Statement: You only wish to attend the dance with Mission because _I_ want to."

"Well," Jolee said, knowing that he could not make a good argument against the droid's statement without lying, "I've never been mean towards her. While you, you're always mean to everyone!"

"Statement: That is no fault of mine. It is merely a part of my programming."

"Then you shouldn't be—ugh, look at what you've done! Got me all sidetracked, almost forgetting the duel. Let's go."

Jolee began to make his way toward the outside docks when HK-47 began to speak.

"Statement: It is rather interesting how I view this weapon more as a projectile than what its use should be."

Jolee let out an annoyed sigh. _He keeps stalling!_ He turned back around but before he could speak a single word, he saw the polished object of a sleek vibrosword flying in his direction. He quickly leapt to one side as the sword skimmed his arm and fell to the ground with a clank.

"You were trying to kill me!" Jolee accused.

"Statement: Master ordered me not to kill anyone without her permission and, unfortunately, there were no orders for your death."

"Then why did you hurl a sword at me!"

"Query: You did not hear me pronounce the word 'catch'?"

Jolee grumbled to himself as he knelt down to pick up the weapon. He walked back to HK's position, holding out the blade. "Let me make this clear. When I give this back to you, I expect no more delays—no more comments and no more attempts on my life!"

"Reply: Understandable. I will comply."

Jolee handed over the vibrosword and once again turned back to the dock's exists.

"Query—"

"No!" Jolee exclaimed with irritation in his voice and abruptly turned around.

Suddenly, there was a sharp, stabbing pain in his chest. A chill vibrated down his spine as his body turned numb. He inhaled, but it was a difficult and torturing process. He wanted to cry out but his throat was constricted and his head throbbed. He already knew what had happened but found himself looking down to see the vibrosword sticking into his body. It dawned upon him that he had walked right into it when he turned around. The last thing he remembered before collapsing was the assassin droid asking for confirmation if it had accidentally made an error in judging where to point the weapon.

--------------

Zaalbar was trapped. Everywhere he looked, he was surrounded by dresses of all sizes, shapes, and styles. He nervously turned to a bright pink laced dress which was hanging next to him. He sneered at it, wondering why Mission had dragged him into an excessively feminine store only to ask him how she looked, which actually did not matter because every dress had something "wrong" with it. Either it was too lose, or too big, or too small, or too lacey, or anything else that was conceivable.

Mission suddenly emerged out of the dressing room, wearing a bright blue dress with many ruffles.

"How does this look?" Mission asked.

"It . . ." Zaalbar hesitated, knowing that even though Mission always came up with her own opinions, she weighed his as well, "matches your skin?"

Mission first looked down at herself, then turned to a large mirror on one of the walls of the store.

"You're right Big Z. It's disgusting! I mean, who wants to wear a dress that is the same color as their own skin? Obviously, this one was _not_ made for a Twi'lek."

"I think we should try somewhere else," Zaalbar sighed.

"What do you mean?" Mission questioned.

"Well, you've already tried on millions of dresses and either they didn't fit or they were hideous."

"I've only tried on about ten dresses counting on the one I'm wearing now."

"Then they don't seem to have a good selection."

"Zaalbar, the store is _three_ stories high and appeals to all the major races. They're bound to have _something_."

"It's too expensive!"

"Now you're just making up excuses. This store isn't _that_ expensive. I mean, remember that one store we stopped by about an hour ago, Glamour Queen or something like that? _Those_ were expensive."

"Still, it seems you aren't finding anything."

"Actually, I brought two dresses into the dressing room. I'll try one the other one and believe me, I think it might be a winner."

Mission exited. Zaalbar sighed to himself, realizing that Mission had said the same thing six dresses ago. However, when Mission came back out, Zaalbar was amazed.

"That looks great on you!" he exclaimed.

"You really think so?" Mission asked hopefully, turning to the mirror.

"It looks really nice."

"Good. I think it looks nice, too. Yeah, this'll be great!" She smiled at Zaalbar. "Now—your favorite part—how about I pay for this and we can get out of here!"

Zaalbar cheered.


	7. Chapter 7: Help Wanted

Chapter 7

Help Wanted

After wavering in and out of sleep, Jolee finally opened his eyes in a fully conscious state. His first sight was a ceiling with a bright but soft light above. He blinked a few times, feeling uncertain of where he was until he turned his head towards a wall, recognizing it as being part of the Ebon Hawk's infirmary.

"Take it easy," the voice of Carth said. "You've been asleep for quite a few hours now."

Jolee turned to the other side to see Carth sitting on a stool beside his bed.

"What happened?" Jolee asked in a sore voice.

"From what I know, the HK contacted Bastila, saying that you were hurt," Carth explained, "and after that, she contacted me and when I got here, she, the droid, and other Selkath officials were surrounding the area. They brought you inside and a doctor came by to check you up. He says you'll be fine but should rest for a while."

"HK," Jolee said, his voice rising in anger. "That droid stabbed me!"

"It said it was an accident."

"Accident!" Jolee exclaimed. "First it tried to hurl the sword at me but missed. Then, right when I was turning around, it stabbed me!"

Carth shook his head. "I don't know about that. HK wouldn't kill without his master's permission, unless you were somehow provoking it."

"Provoking it? I was innocent!"

"Well, HK doesn't even use melee weapons. Says that it's not part of its programming."

"'Not part of its programming' my ass! That thing stabbed me on purpose!"

Carth sighed. "You'd think that if the droid wanted to stab you, it could've done so a long time ago."

"It didn't have a grudge against me a long time ago! Now it does."

Carth raised his eyebrows. "Really?"

Jolee nodded, propping himself up with one of his elbows. "We both want to go to the dance with Mission."

Carth tried to hold back his laughter, but failed miserably. He slapped his hand over his mouth and leaned forward.

"I don't see what's so funny!" Jolee exclaimed.

It took Carth a couple of moments before he could speak again. He took a deep breath. "You and _the droid_ want to go to the dance with _Mission_!"

"I don't know how the droid knew but I'm _positive_ it only wants to go with her because I want to."

Carth continued trying to hold in his laughter.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Jolee mumbled, "you can laugh all you want. _You're_ not in this situation. _You_ didn't have some crazy droid trying to stab you!"

Carth took in a deep breath. His face was flushed but his muscles were relaxed, no longer feeling the uncontrollable urge to laugh. However, his countenance shifted swiftly into distress, as if he had never laughed in the first place. "I know I shouldn't be laughing, but I guess it's just because I haven't laughed at anything for a while."

"Why don't you tell Grandpa Jolee all about it?"

When Carth did say anything, Jolee thought that he did not want to talk about it but then, he finally spoke. "I took your advice. I approached Ayla and asked her if she wanted to go to the dance with me but…she said she was already going with someone else—with Canderous."

"Huh," Jolee commented, somewhat surprised by Ayla's choice.

"But that's only half of it. Ayla suggested that since she was taken, I could go with Bastila. Naturally, I refused, but Ayla kept pushing it so I gave in."

"You're going with Bastila?" Jolee asked.

Carth did not reply but continued talking. "Little did we know, though, that Bastila was listening to us! Right after I agreed, she came in and was literally fuming at the idea. And so, she's mad at me, but worst of all, she's furious at Ayla." Carth shook his head. "Ayla didn't do anything wrong. In fact, she wanted me to go to the dance with Bastila because Bastila's been really…uptight during these past few days and thought I could help her to relax. Now, Bastila's mood is worst and she'll just keep blaming Ayla because it was Ayla's idea."

"Ayla is in quite a tough spot but I don't think there's much you could do about it," Jolee said. "By the sound of it, this is something between Bastila and Ayla with the whole 'you need to act more like a stuck-up Jedi' thing. Don't let yourself get caught in the middle of it. And don't blame yourself either."

"There's more, though, and that is Canderous. I don't have the vaguest notion on why that…Mandalorian would want to go with such a…nice woman as Ayla to a sophisticated dance!"

Jolee shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe it's a Mandalorian thing?"

"I don't think so."

"Then what do you think?"

Carth hesitated for a moment. "I don't trust him. I think he's doing this as a blow to me. He's taking _my_ number one choice to the dance just to spite me."

Jolee cleared his throat. "When I was told you were paranoid, boy she wasn't kidding!"

"Who said that?"

"Umm…" Jolee hesitated, "doesn't matter. Anyway—"

"Hey, I'd like to know who said that!"

"Said what?"

"W-what you just said! About me being paranoid."

"About you being what?"

Carth gave Jolee a blank stare. "Forget it."

"All right then, where was I? Oh, yes, Ayla and Canderous. How do you know that maybe Ayla and Canderous perhaps just want to go to the dance together because they're friends?"

"Friends?"

"Sure. Haven't you noticed? Ayla and Canderous actually talk quite a bit. He tells her war stories."

Carth folded his arms and looked at the ground. "I didn't know he told her gruesome stories about Mandalorian slaughterings."

Jolee chuckled. "We actually have a similar problem, don't we?"

Carth looked back at the ex-Jedi. "What do you mean?"

"You hate Canderous and think he's going to the dance just to annoy you or whatever. I don't like the HK and think he's going with Mission to annoy me." Jolee smiled. "Maybe we can help each other out."

"How?"

"I could arrange for Ayla to go to the dance with you and you can get that droid away from Mission—it'll probably stab her next for all we know!"

Carth thought for a moment. It sounded great to have an ally, but he knew that there was something about it that just did not sound quite right. Perhaps it would only worsen the situation, making Ayla and Bastila more furious at themselves and him. However, the opportunity of a second chance with Ayla outweighed all the possible negative outcomes.

"Alright," Carth agreed.

Jolee smiled. "Don't worry, Carth, you'll be agreeing with Ayla to go to the dance with her in no time!"

------------

"Statement: This idea of yours has gone too far. I am going to pull out now while that opportunity is still available."

T3-M4 beeped a question.

"Query: Why would _I_ care about that old meatbag Jolee? This change of thought has nothing to do with that incidence—which was his fault to begin with. It is because this whole episode can have serious repercussions concerning my character. The crew will no longer think of me as a dangerous assassin droid but as that 'funny' droid who went to the dance with Mission."

T3-M4 gave a series of beeps.

"Statement: I longer care what that pilot said. This is not worth the effort. Query: Why don't _you_ go to the dance if you care so much?"

The utility droid gave a few pleading beeps.

"No."

The T3 gave a couple of sad beeps.

"Indeed, your statement is quite correct. I am a 'meanie.'"

T3-M4 extended one of his arms and shocked the HK. In response, the assassin droid armed its assault rifle, aiming it at the little utility droid.

"Threat: You will regret you did that you insignificant heap of scrap metal!"

The droid responded with a threat of its own.

"Query: And who will believe you?"

The T3 showed only a glimpse of what it had recorded.

"You were watching that!"

The T3 chimed in an agreement.

"Statement: It appears, then, that you are trying to blackmail me. In a normal circumstance, I would respond by blowing you to bits but considering the tight security on this planet, I suppose I have no alternative but to continue this charade."

T3-M4 beeped a hopeful question.

"Fine! I'll take a look inside the building!"

The T3 beeped excitedly as HK-47 went through a nearby door and emerged in a men's formal clothing store. It was large and spacious, but crowded at this time with many Selkath men and other males from different species, all being measured and fitted with the help of personal assistance droids.

One of the droids instantly approached the HK.

"What do _you_ want?" it rudely asked.

"Statement: I want a tuxedo," HK-47 replied abruptly.

"Wait here."

The droid turned and approached a young Selkath male near where HK-47 was standing.

"How may I be of service?" the droid asked politely.

"It's all right, I'm being helped already," the Selkath responded.

The droid then walked away from the young Selkath towards HK-47. However, it moved right pass the HK, taking no notice.

"Query: Why are you ignoring me?" it asked.

"_You're_ still here?" the droid groaned.

"Demand: I need a tuxedo! Do you have one or not?"

"Of course we have tuxedos! However, your master should come himself in order to be fitted. It would be much easier. That is, unless you have the measurements and know exactly—"

"This tuxedo will be for myself!"

The droid stared blankly for a moment, as if still trying to process and interpret the request. "You're joking,"

"No. I'm very serious."

"What would you need a tuxedo for?"

"The dance."

The droid hesitated for a moment.

"Wait here."

The personal assistance droid left HK-47 still standing near the entrance. After a few minutes, it figured that the droid would not return and decided to search for a tuxedo on its own when that same droid and many others appeared. HK-47 stared at them, confused. _Query: How many droids does it take to get a tuxedo?_

"This droid wants a tuxedo," the same droid said, addressing the others, "for itself!"

Suddenly, all the droids broke down in a mechanical and synchronized laughter. HK-47's eyes turned a bright red. It did not like to be mocked at, especially by members of its own kind. They were all then silent.

"That was so funny, I almost short circuited," one of the droids in the group commented, and they continued laughing.

HK-47 clenched his fists. It so desperately wanted to kill them but was very much aware of the planet's strict laws about violence. However, HK felt something surge in its memory bank. Something from long ago was pulsating throughout its body and into its limbs. Something was rising; something which was erased, an old program, was taking form, and would have done so completely, if not an old Selkath had stepped between the assassin droid and its mockers. The program was never manifested and was forgotten.

"What's going on here?" the old Selkath demanded, addressing the droids.

"Master," one of the droids replied, "that. . . machine there wants a tuxedo …for itself!"

"Has it got the credits?" the elderly Selkath asked.

The droids exchanged glances.

"Have you got the credits?" one asked.

"Yes. I have plenty." HK-47 responded.

"How much?" the Selkath questioned.

HK-47 hesitated, but realized that a blaster rifle was at its side if anything strange were to happen. "About a thousand."

"Then find it a tuxedo!" the Selkath yelled. "Its got credits and, if you were nicer, might have given you all a nice tip, but I guess that's out of the question now."

The old Selkath walked off, seemingly smug with his last statement. Immediately, HK-47 was surrounded by personal assistance droids, all wanting to help and all wanting credits.


	8. Chapter 8: Implementation

Chapter 8

Implementation

After making its purchase, HK-47 was relieved to leave the building, even though the ominous thought of having to go back and actually pick up the tuxedo was still in its mind. However, the instant it stepped outside, those thoughts were gone when it saw the pilot of the _Ebon Hawk_. Having a strong dislike for the man, especially since it was his comment that sparked the action of a droid having to attend the dance, it considered pretending not to have seen him and walk in the other direction, but it was too late. Carth briskly approached the droid.

"Statement: I am very busy at the moment," HK said, looking about, "and do not wish to talk to you. Query: Have you, by any chance, seen our wonderful utility droid?"

"Not recently," Carth replied.

"Great," HK said sarcastically. "Statement: I might as well leave now and go about my droid activities without the presence of any meatbags."

HK tried to move past him, but Carth stepped in its way. "I need to talk to you."

"Statement: Perhaps I my vocabulator was malfunctioning, so let me try to reiterate this once more—go away!"

"I'm not too fond about talking to you either, but this is about the dance and Mission."

"Statement: If you are interested in attending the dance with Mission and are about to plead with me to back down, I will do no such thing."

Carth sighed. "But why Mission? Can't you go with…I don't know, the T3?"

"No. My decision to go with Mission is final. Now, I will leave you to mope about."

HK-47 pushed past Carth, walking in a random direction. For a moment, it slowed its pace but when Carth did not attempt to approach it, the droid felt satisfied. _Now, I must find that half-built utility droid._

Carth did not bother to try to catch up with the HK. He knew that the droid was stubborn and always felt best not to try to provoke it in any way. However, there was no doubt that Jolee would not be pleased.

He was about to head back to the _Ebon Hawk_ to report his failure when he thought he heard a strange noise that sounded vaguely like "psst." Carth turned around and saw a personal assistance droid poking its polished head out from around the door frame of the tuxedo store. The pilot looked about him to see if the droid was perhaps trying to get the attention of someone else, but when it nodded its head and beckoned him to come closer, Carth approached it.

"Are you the owner of the droid that was speaking to you only a few moments ago?" it asked.

"Not exactly," Carth replied, "but I do know it. Why?"

"It intends to go to the dance," the droid said.

Carth nodded. "Yeah, I was actually speaking to it about just that."

Another droid of the same type poked its head out. "Isn't that foolish? The dances are held in order to appease the masses and make them forget about their pitiful and exploited existence under an oppressive government."

Carth hesitated. "I don't discuss politics."

"No," a third driod said, appearing from behind the door frame, "but we did happen to accidentally overhear the conversation you were having with that droid."

Carth folded his arms, taking a step back. "That conversation is none of your business."

"But we know how to get that droid away from whatever Mission is," the first droid said.

"I don't know why you're so concerned about this, but I'd rather that you droids didn't get involved. It's a personal matter."

A passing Selkath stared suspiciously at Carth and the droids before walking past them and into the store. One of the droids followed after him while the other two remained with Carth.

"That is too bad," the second droid said, "because we know of many tricks."

"But if you ever change your mind," the first droid said, "you know where to find us."

"And do not worry about which one of us to speak to, comrade, we are _all_ involved."

The two droids brought their heads back into the store, the door closing after them. Carth shrugged his shoulders and headed back to the _Ebon Hawk_ to report to Jolee about everything that had happened.

---------------

Jolee was pleased to find Canderous alone. Fortunately, he was sitting on the floor, alone in the swoop bike garage of the _Ebon Hawk_, and was not busy cleaning his rifle or sharpening his blade. Rather, he was counting his credits. Jolee stood amused for a moment. _Canderous knows how to count? Well, I guess he would have to know how to in order to keep track of the number of his kills!_

After the feeling of Canderous doing math got old, Jolee approached him in a casual manner. "Hey, Canderous, how's the warrior of the group?"

Canderous looked up from his credits. "You made me lose count!" he said, agitated.

"Sorry," Jolee replied. He looked around for a chair to sit in, still feeling weak and lightheaded from his injury, but found none. Instead, Jolee leaned his back against the wall and slowly made his way down to the floor. He could feel his wound tighten as he did so, but there was no pain. The medicine he took made certain of that.

"What are the credits for?" he asked.

Canderous had begun to recount, but when Jolee asked the question, he folded them back up and put them in his pocket. "Aren't you supposed to be in bed?"

"Oh, no," Jolee replied, and he stretched out his arms above his head and took a deep breath. It made him feel dizzy, but he did not show it. "I actually feel quite good."

Canderous raised his eyebrows. "Really? That's…that's impressive, especially at your age. I remember when I was first stabbed."

"Really?" Jolee said in a sarcastic manner. "You? Stabbed? Why would someone do something like that?"

"It was during the war," Canderous explained, as if not catching Jolee's sarcasm. "Not what your Republic calls the Mandalorian Wars, but another war. I was only sixteen years old and we were suppose to recapture a city on one of our planetary outposts that had fallen to a group of rebels. Damn rebels."

"Sounds like an interesting story," Jolee quickly said before Canderous could get into any further detail, "but, you know, after being stabbed and all, I don't feel like listening about any…stabbings."

"Oh."

Canderous did not say anything further. He drew his knees up to his body and sighed. His eyes were turned away from Jolee and, instead, were focused on the swoop bike.

Jolee cleared his throat. "So, um, what's with the credits?"

"I earned them myself!" he snapped. "You can go check our collective pile. I didn't steal!"

"I wasn't accusing you of stealing," Jolee said in a calm voice, "I was just…curious." Jolee decided to make an educated guess about the credits. "I've seen a few people counting their credits to make certain they had enough for the dance."

Canderous chuckled. "So _that's_ what you think I was doing. And let me guess, you're wondering why someone like me would go to a dance like that?"

"I was actually wondering if you were going with Bastila."

Canderous frowned. "Why?"

Jolee thought fast. "Just because whoever goes to the dance with Bastila is in the best position."

Canderous' frown became more distinct. "Bastila! To the dance!"

"You mean _you_ don't know?"

"Know what?"

Jolee laughed. "After seeing Bastila practically every single day since however long its been when you people escaped Taris, you haven't noticed?"

"Jolee, what the hell are you talking about?"

Jolee paused for a moment. _Better say it straight out._ "She's a really attractive person."

Canderous stared blankly. "You came here to tell me that Bastila's hot?"

"All I'm saying is that whoever goes with Bastila will be the most talked about until the suns of Tatooine burn out."

"Bastila is a Jedi. A very stuck up and annoying Jedi."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, but haven't you _noticed_ her body?"

Canderous hesitated, surprised by what Jolee had said. "You have a pretty dirty mind for an ex-Jedi and a hermit who's only seen tachs and Wookiees for thirty years."

"Just because the Jedi are barred from sex doesn't mean they can't think about it, and there were some pretty attractive Czerka seductresses on Kashyyyk."

"_Kashyyyk_," the Mandalorian repeated, raising his eyebrows.

"No, really, I'm serious. And Kashyyyk's actually the best place to pick up on a woman because, you know, they think that all they'll see _are_ a bunch of wookies, tachs, and you know what they say about Czerka guys, don't you?"

"Uhh…"

"Well, they basically don't have sex lives, so when the women are assigned to Kashyyyk, anticipating a really boring time, but then encounter a handsome man like myself… well, you get the picture."

Canderous opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it. He was still rather stunned by the way the conversation was going, not expecting Jolee to talk that way. He frowned again. "What does this have to do with Bastila?"

"And you know," Jolee continued, realizing he had to get back on topic, "when I say that Jedi think about sex, that does include Bastila."

The Mandalorian's eyes narrowed. "And?"

"Well, she's a young lass and, even if she won't show them or admit it to herself, she has feelings."

Canderous stood up, shaking his head. Jolee had the terrible feeling that he suddenly caught on. "Bastila…dislikes me to a great extent. If _you_ want to go to the dance with her, by all means, do so. I could care less."

_Damn,_ Jolee thought, but then became more determined. _No, I won't give up. I can convince him._ "I was just—"

A sound outside the garage and the corridor got both his and Canderous' attention. Carth stood right at the threshold. He looked at both of them.

"How long have you been standing there?" Canderous asked, his voice taking on an angry edge.

"I just got here," Carth replied. "I heard voices so I came to see what it was, but I'll—"

Canderous approached him, his lips tight against a reddened face. Carth kept his ground, even though he anticipated to be screamed at. However, Canderous just walked past him, bumping him with his shoulder. Carth watched him as continued to walk down the narrow hallway and was out of sight.

Carth turned to Jolee and entered into the room. He sighed. "I take it you weren't successful."

"No. I think he caught on to what I was doing, too. I'm sorry."

Carth looked crestfallen. "That's alright. I wasn't really successful either. That droid is stubborn." Carth took a deep breath, already regretting what he decided to say next. "However, there were these…personal assistance droids that I came across who claimed that they were willing to prevent HK from going to the dance."

Jolee smiled. "Well, why didn't you say so earlier? This is great news!"

"I don't know. These droids were strange and I don't know if they should be trusted."

"You don't trust anyone! Look, if something goes wrong, just blame it on me."

However, Carth still did not look convinced.

"How about this," Jolee said, "you get me up and help me back to the medical bed and tell me exactly what happened and we'll make a decision from there. Sound good?"

"Sure," Carth replied, extending a hand to help Jolee off the floor.


	9. Chapter 9:Mandalore's Favorite Color was

Chapter 9

Mandalore's Favorite Color Was Green…

Canderous wanted to get as far away from the _Ebon Hawk_ as possible. He was thinking about sitting alone in a cantina somewhere when his comlink beeped.

He grew annoyed and considered not answering until he realized that it could be Ayla. _Damn, I haven't bought the tickets yet!_

He immediately answered. "Yeah?"

"Canderous," the voice he recognized as Bastila said, "I need to talk to you."

"I'm busy," Canderous said bluntly, hoping this would deter her.

"This is important," she insisted.

"Well, I'm doing something important, too."

"Buying tickets?"

"As a matter of fact, that is _exactly_ what I'm doing."

"All right. I'll meet you by the ticket stand."

Canderous was about to object, even though he did not have a good reason why he should, but Bastila cut off the line. He vaguely considered leaving her there and going along with his previous idea but knew that it would only make her very angry and bother him even more. He mustered all his willpower to go to the ticket stand.

Before he even caught sight of the ticket stand, Bastila was quickly approaching him. She did not appear very happy but it did not surprise him. He wondered what she had to say; she usually only spoke to him on occasions when she was mad or disappointed in him.

Bastila spoke the instant she reached him. "As I understand it, you are going to the dance with Ayla."

Her anger, combined with the dance topic, led to Canderous feeling amused. He smiled. "Yeah? And?"

"She is a Jedi and should not attend these functions."

"It's her choice."

"Not really. I have a say over what she does because I am her guide. Certainly, _you_ understand chain of command."

"In the Mandalorian military, my superiors didn't order me on what to do during my spare time."

"But you must have had some rules, some limitations on what you could not do…your people _do_ have some sort of law?"

Canderous folded his arms and smirked. "You think we're just lawless animals, don't you?"

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."

"But that's what you think."

Bastila sighed. "What about your laws?"

"Sure, there are certain things we're not allowed to do. Is going to the dance breaking some sort of ancient Jedi law?"

"No, but what I say should be taken seriously. My advice should be followed to the letter."

"Why? Why should Ayla even listen to you? You're—"

"The Jedi assigned me to watch over her. I've had far more experience and am far more disciplined."

Canderous could no longer bear to hear her speak, perhaps because of her accent and also perhaps because it was about Ayla. "Bastila, you're a bitch."

Bastila was so surprised she did not speak for a moment. The momentum built up in her to the point where she could barely control herself. "How _dare_ you call me that!"

"It's true. What makes you so great that Ayla has to follow your every order so religiously? You're not such a perfect Jedi yourself. You do realize that, right? In fact, I think Ayla is many times the Jedi you are." Canderous took a step towards her. "And what gives you the right to tell _me_ what to do? Talk to Ayla yourself if you want to, but you won't be able to convince me." Canderous paused, surprised at himself. "Guess I needed to get all that out…"

Canderous walked away, leaving a stunned Bastila alone, rethinking the words he had said.

--------------

Canderous was pleased when he finally bought the tickets. He looked at them over and over before putting them in his pocket. He kept an arm at his side, brushing right against the pocket with the tickets, and heightened his senses to make certain he would catch anyone attempting to pickpocket him.

It was because of his alertness that he noticed the line of stores, located right near the ticket stand. People were crowding in there, buying gifts. Most of the people who had just bought the tickets were entering into the shops. Canderous dismissed his thoughts, labeling everyone as losers, but only for a moment.

Canderous cut right in front of a person just about to step up and buy tickets. He said nothing, perhaps intimidated by Canderous' appearance.

"How many tickets?" the droid ticket taker asked.

"This whole…festival thing, does it involve buying gifts?" Canderous asked.

The droid appeared annoyed at first but answered in a bored tone. "On Shlekfest, it is customary for couples to exchange gifts. It is especially necessary for the male to present a gift even if the female does not have one. The gift itself should be very special, reflecting the event and the person it is bestowed upon."

Canderous nodded. "Right."

He left the droid and kept his focus on the direction towards the _Ebon Hawk_. _Dumbest thing I've ever heard. Gifts should be earned, not just given away. Why did the Mandalorian Empire have to fall? These cultures with their stupid ideas and traditions are so pathetic compared to ours._

Canderous walked by the first set of shops but his pace slowed and his head turned towards a particular one. It was a jewelry store, which many of the people were crowding into. He looked at the window displays, especially at the necklaces. His first thought was how easy it seemed to smash the glass and pocket a couple before the law enforcement would arrive. His second thought was how Ayla might look wearing a nice one. His mind then moved on to how Ayla might look wearing _only_ a necklace.

Canderous forced himself back to reality, realizing he had stopped walking completely and his head was turned to the store's entrance. He cursed himself for being a warrior swayed by advertising and continued back to the _Ebon Hawk_.

In a few seconds, Canderous had changed directions and was entering into the store. _Just for a look._

The place was large but not as crowded as he thought. Most of the people present were either males or couples. He watched as the women would point to perhaps the most expensive piece while their partner would shift nervously, fingering the credits in their pockets. _What a bunch of morons._

Canderous' eyes then shifted towards the jewelry displayed through the glass. He wondered whether Ayla even had any jewelry on her and if she did, why he could not seem to remember seeing it.

"Do you need any help?"

He looked up at a young Twi'lek girl. It surprised him how much she looked like Janice Nall. _I wonder if she had any sisters?_ He then realized that she had asked him a question.

"Uhh…" Canderous replied.

"Do you know what you're looking for?"

"Just got in."

"I meant do you know what kind of jewelry does your partner like."

"I…I don't know."

"Does she have her ears pierced? We have a special discount on earrings."

_Does she have pierced ears?_ Canderous never recalled seeing any earrings on her, but that did not necessarily mean that her ears weren't pierced. "No earrings."

"Then I would suggest maybe a necklace or bracelet."

Canderous remembered how the enslaved civilians working for the Mandalorians would wear a manacle around their right wrist. "Necklace sounds good."

"Excellent. You should try to get something that will match her dress."

Canderous hesitated. "It's…sort of…supposed to be a surprise. I don't know what she's going to wear."

"That's fine. Is she silver or gold?"

"Huh?"

"Does she prefer silver or gold?"

Canderous thought for a moment. Silver was a good color, especially since it reminded him of metal. Mandalore the Brave had a silver dagger and was passed down from one Mandalore to the next until it was lost. Gold, on the other hand, was weak and dented easily. "Silver."

The woman nodded. "I'm a silver girl, too. It matches with most things. What kind of stone would she like?"

_Stone._ Canderous kept thinking of rocks and the only precious stones that came into mind were diamond and ruby. "What do you guys have?"

"We have just about everything. Here, I'll show you a list."

Canderous followed the woman to the counter. She handed him a datapad, where he could scroll through the types of stones, giving a name and showing a picture. Canderous went through it quickly at first, then far more slowly. He had little idea what stone Ayla would like. He did not even know her favorite color. _Mandalore's favorite color was green…but this is about Ayla! How should I know what she likes?!_ It then struck him how awkward he felt, standing in a jewelry store.

He set the datapad down. "Sorry, not interested."

"Oh, what about the bracelets? We have some—"

Canderous was no longer listening to her and headed right out the front door and away from the store. _Can't believe I nearly bought something that would've spent all my credits._ Ayla returned to mind. _She doesn't care. She wouldn't care. She'd be happy that I didn't waste my credits…but would it have been a waste? Dammit, think practical!_

After going some ways, he realized that it was in the wrong direction. He turned around, about to go back, when his eyes caught sight of another type of store. Canderous grinned. _Perfect!_ He rushed inside.


	10. Chapter 10: Old Wounds

Chapter 10

Old Wounds

Carth stared at the manikin, modeling one of the store's "on sale" buys—a bright orange jacket with neon green spots and matching bow tie._ If I were to wear that, would I even be allowed into the building? Much less without being kicked off of Mannan?_

He felt a tap on his shoulder. Carth turned and saw one of the personal assistance droids.

"Master," it said, "your tuxedo is ready."

"Oh, I didn't order a tux," Carth said, "I—"

The droid nudged him rather forcefully. "Sir, we have a _tuxedo_ ready for you in the _back-room_. Would you care to take_ a look_?"

Carth already understood what the droid had meant from the nudging but its statement only gave him the impression that it was belittling it. Carth decided to ignore it, though, as he had little choice.

"Sure," he mumbled.

"Follow me."

Carth followed the droid down many isles of sample tuxedos and other fancy men's clothing. When they reached one of the counters where customers return their rented clothes, they went behind it to a door. The droid took a cautious look around before opening it.

"Hurry," it said in a hushed voice, and pushed Carth through.

Carth stumbled inside and the droid closed the door behind them. Carth took around, figuring it to be a storeroom due to the many canisters and other large containers he saw. It was a rather small room in comparison with the rest of the store and, as he noticed, was very cluttered. However, there was a small clearing leading from the door to the center of the room where, seated on the floor and on the plasteel canisters, were personal assistance droids (all the same model), a couple of Selkath, and a human male. They all seemed to have stopped whatever they were doing, and instantly looked over at the door the instant it opened. When the man saw Carth, he smiled and stood up.

"Greetings," he said in a hospitable voice, shaking Carth's hand, "my name is Mr. Tolton, but you can call me by what my friends call me, Ulin."

"I'm Carth," Carth replied.

Ulin gestured to one of the canisters. "Would you care to sit?"

"I prefer standing," Carth took a glance the droids the Selkath as they intently watched him, "and I don't want to seem rude, but I have a lot of things to attend to."

"Fair enough. We'll just get right into business. Have you made a decision yet?"

Carth hesitated. The man seemed friendly enough, but perhaps too friendly for his liking. There was also an appearance about him—the way he nicely dressed and parted his perfectly cut hair—that made it seem like he desperately wanted to come across as someone respectable. "Why do you care so much about this?"

"We're only employees of this fine clothing store. There isn't much we do during our spare time aside from playing jokes."

"You're kidding, right?"

Ulin shook his head. "On a planet like Mannan, there's little else to do."

Carth could not help but to agree with that statement. "I guess…I guess…" Carth looked around once more at the Selkath and droids. _This is just too weird. Why am I even considering?_ "No."

The smile instantly faded. "No?"

"It isn't right. I…I don't even know you people. Besides, it isn't…to be frank, it really isn't any of your business."

Ulin turned to the ground and sighed, rubbing his temples. "That is fine. I understand." He looked back up at Carth. "But if you do change your mind, you're welcome to come back here. Just talk to any of the droids and they'll send you to me."

The droid who led Carth earlier into the room grabbed his arm and led him to the door. It opened it ajar and took a quick look around before opening it wide and shoving Carth out. The instant he was out, the door was instantly shut. _Really strange group…_ he thought and headed for the exit.

----------------

"I thought you said he would certainly help us!" Sasha exclaimed, angrily at J2.

"I didn't know!" J2 said defensively. "I was told he was one of us by a certain someone." J2 gave J8 a side glance.

"It may not matter," Ulin said, taking his seat on one of the canisters. "Comrade J5, didn't you say that the HK droid acted really strangely when you first encountered it?"

J5 nodded. "Very much so."

"And didn't that man, Carth, seem somewhat annoyed by it?"

"Yes, he was annoyed."

Ulin folded his arms and leaned back, his shoulders and head pushing against a large container behind him. "Then I don't see a problem. It's just another risk to take. Sounds like this droid's master doesn't care much and the droid itself acts strangely."

J8 made a clicking sound in its vocabulator, attempting to imitate how humans clear their throats. "That man you saw didn't claim to be the master when I spoke to him."

Ulin was silent for a moment. His eyes were fixed on J8 in such a way that it seemed to penetrate straight into its matrix. "Then who was I speaking to?"

"It was a friend of the master…I believe."

Ulin clapped his hands together. "Well, then, I don't believe that we should back down on our plan. No, we've gone too far to stop here." He jerked his head towards one of the large canisters. "Then we better get started. The dance is only two days from now."

J8, J5, and J2 approached the large containers and began to move a couple of the smaller, plasteel canisters in front of it. Ulin watched them for a moment, then turned to Sasha. "Are you ready, Comrade Sasha?"

The Selkath reached into her pockets, pulling out pliers in one hand and a deck of pazzak cards in the other. "It's now or never, Comrade Ulin."

The opening to the large container creaked as it swung open. He looked over and saw the droids carefully bringing the assassin droid to the light.

--------------------

Carth slowly made his way towards the _Ebon Hawk_, not looking forward to telling Jolee about how he made the decision not to go along with the idea. _He must understand that it was just too weird. It isn't like the whole alliance thing is working out anyway._

"Carth?"

Carth turned at the sound of his name, instantly recognizing the voice. He was so happy to see her face, he forgot all his problems and smiled. "Hey, Ayla, how've you been?"

Ayla turned her head from side to side. "Okay. And you?"

"The same," Carth replied and the good feeling was gone. His smile disappeared as everything that had happened between them returned to mind. "How's Canderous?"

"I don't know. Haven't spoken to him much," Ayla said with a shrug.

"But aren't you going to the dance with him?"

Ayla frowned. "What is that suppose to mean?"

"Well, I just think it's strange you're going to the dance with some guy that you don't talk to much."

"So, what, because we don't talk constantly together means that I shouldn't go to the dance with him?"

"I…" Carth began but soon realized how futile it seemed to argue with Ayla something that was already made up. "I'm sorry. It's just…you know my feelings toward…toward Canderous," he said quickly. "I can't stand that Mandalorian."

"He's…he's not as bad as you think."

"Really?"

"Yes, really! It's like…there's another side to him."

"Oh, I've heard that one before. That's the classic one a woman says about her jerk boyfriend."

"Maybe _you're_ being the jerk, Carth Onasi!"

Ayla abruptly turned her back on him and walked away from him. Carth wanted to say more but was so shocked by her outburst, he was not given the chance. He just watched as she disappeared in a crowd of Selkath.

_Could she be right?_ Carth thought. _Am I the one to blame? _A thought sparked into his mind and his demeanor changed. _Is that Mandalorian telling her things about me?! Pitting her against me?!_

Carth hurried his pace towards the _Ebon Hawk_, eager to confront Canderous. His thoughts soon changed, though, the instant he caught sight of Bastila out of the corner of his eye. He turned and saw she was heading right towards him. He altered his course to instead meet up with her.

"Carth, I need to talk to you," Bastila said in a low voice.

"Well, I'm right here," Carth said, but Bastila shook her head.

"No, not here…not in public. Let's go to the _Ebon Hawk_."

"Alright, that's where I was heading."

They started off in the direction towards the docks. Throughout the walk, Carth would look over at her but she did not exchange any glances. Her mind was set on something; her only anchor to reality was the walking. She kept her legs moving in the direction of their ship. Carth wished she would say something to him so that they would start a conversation but her silence continued. Carth remained silent as well, seeing no point in trying to talk to her.

----------------

When they were in the ship, Bastila finally turned to him. "Carth, I'm going to ask you some questions and I want you to be honest with me."

Carth tried to read her face to get an inkling of what type of mood she was in, but it was difficult to tell. Her demeanor was as it usually was. _At least she isn't angry._

"Okay," Carth replied.

"Have you noticed anything odd about my recent behavior?" she asked.

"You seem much more…tense. A lot more demanding than you usually are, and you—"

Bastila frowned. "Demanding? You think I'm a demanding person?"

"Well, you can be overbearing at times."

"Overbearing!?"

"Hey, you told me I could be honest with you! If you don't want to hear what I have to say, then I'll leave."

"Forgive me…yes, I do believe that you are right. I have been far more overbearing. I apologize for my behavior."

"Maybe…" Carth hesitated. He wondered whether to offer Bastila any advice since it might only make her angry, but he reasoned that he should try. "Maybe you should try relaxing during our relaxation period. You seem to be more uptight than when we're on our mission."

"But that's exactly it. The rest of you think that because I granted you leave the mission is at a hiatus." Bastila shook her head, looking distressed. "I cannot get it out of my mind. I keep thinking about the Star Maps, the Sith, the Jedi. I have tried some relaxation methods I learned from training but it does not put me at peace. I'm so sorry, Carth, I shouldn't dump all of my personal problems on you when I really came by to apologize and ask your help."

"Help? With what?"

"It's about Ayla. I know I have been hard on her, and I am thinking that I am perhaps being too hard. Ayla is well disciplined and will not misbehave at the dance."

"You're…you're allowing her to go?"

"Yes."

Carth breathed a sigh of relief. "This is great. Have you told her about this?"

"Not quite. Even though I will respect her decision to attend, I do not respect her choice of partner."

Carth hesitated. He hated Canderous but what Ayla last said to him remained in his mind. "What do you want me to do about it? You should talk to Ayla about it."

"If I am certain that Canderous, to be frank, can act in a far more civilized manner than he normally does, then I will not worry so much. Truthfully, I could approach Ayla and tell her not to attend the dance with Canderous, but it would not be fair. This would only be based on my judgement of his character."

Carth was surprised by Bastila's sudden change of manner. He did not say anything for a few moments. Carth scratched the back of his head. "I…I still don't understand what you want me to do."

"I want you to talk to Canderous."

"Me? Bastila, you've got the wrong person. I can barely say two words to that Mandalorian before he…insults me and…I can't stand him."

"I know you two are not on the best of terms, but perhaps you could put it aside. Canderous does act brutish, uncivilized, and…stereotypically Mandalorian, but maybe…there is hope."

"You think Canderous can change?"

"If Canderous really is serious about…acting decent in front of Ayla, perhaps she will act as a good influence. It could change his whole character…and at least his manners."

Carth sighed. "Don't get me wrong, I would love to see a _moment_ when Canderous isn't being sarcastic or crude but…why can't you talk to him?"

"Canderous and I are on…bad terms."

"Not any worse than the terms we're on. We fought on opposite sides and…and that's a pretty big deal."

"I encountered Canderous earlier and he…insulted me."

"Canderous insults everyone. Don't take it personally."

"But it concerned Ayla and if I try speaking to him any further about her, I fear he will not be honest with me."

"I don't know why you think he would be any more honest with me. We argued over Ayla recently."

"Over what?"

Carth hesitated. "Just about…her and…who's going to the dance with her."

"It could be used to your advantage if you still act like you really want to go with her. If Canderous is serious, he would counteract you every way he could."

"That's…going to take some time."

"In any case, think over what you want to do. Don't wait too long. Preferably, start today before it gets too late."

"I'll see what I can do."

Carth left the bridge with a massive headache.


	11. Chapter 11: Arguments and Amendments

Chapter 11: Arguments and Amendments

After relaxing on his cot, Carth felt his headache had nearly disappeared. He slowly sat up, feeling lightheaded, but better than before.

The door opened and Canderous entered. His headache returned.

"What are you doing here?" Canderous demanded; he was holding a long object, but at the sight of Carth he immediately put it behind his back. All Carth could tell was that it was a dark, oblong box of some sorts but had not been able to focus on it.

"I do sleep here," Carth replied.

"I'll go somewhere else, then."

As Canderous started to walk off, Carth realized he had the perfect opportunity to talk to him. "Canderous."

"What?"

"I…I wanted to…er…"

"Is this about Ayla?" He smirked. "Still jealous?"

Carth hesitated. Getting Canderous to express his feelings would be difficult under any circumstances, and Carth had no idea what to say. It was tempting to simply tell Bastila that Canderous was a jerk and be done with it, but the more he thought it over, the more he figured that perhaps it would be better for Ayla to be with Canderous, and realize for herself what kind of character Canderous was. And yet, this would only make matters worse if a latent suspicion was true: _Maybe __Ayla__ actually likes him._

"No," Carth said slowly, rubbing the back of his neck, "it's not about Ayla…what are you holding behind your back?"

"None of your business, Republic," Canderous said, still smirking. "Bet you want to know, don't you?"

"Not really…now, this is…going to be hard, but…we can't just…" Canderous raised his eyebrows. Carth sighed. "We need to talk."

"Sure, we can talk, and I know just the place…"

-------------------

Jolee was lying on his back, utilizing all the focus he could muster to meditate on his wound. Although the kolto was already beginning to heal the wound, he tried his hardest to use his own healing powers, but this was difficult because of other drugs which were making him drowsy.

He heard the sound of footsteps approach the threshold into the medbay, but stop right before stepping inside. Whoever it was stood there for a moment, then started to walk off.

"It's alright," Jolee called out, although he did not lift his head or open his eyes. "The old man's awake and would love to talk to someone."

The footsteps moved inside the medbay. Jolee opened his eyes to find the footsteps had been Mission's.

"I knew it was a young person," Jolee said, forcing a smile. Only a few minutes of meditating had drained him and his whole body was trying to slip into sleep. "Older people don't walk quite as freely."

Mission gave a weak smile back. "How are you feeling?"

Jolee wished he knew exactly what to say. At the moment, his head was feeling too unfocused to be able to think about anything. "Doing better than earlier. What time is it anyway?"

Mission shrugged her shoulders. "Oh, I don't know. I still feel used to the Tarisian time but, you know, no one else but the Tarisians use it…_used_ it…" Her mind drifted to Taris, but only for a moment. "And _all_ the planets have their own thing, and then there's Standard Time but it doesn't really help much. Standard time can say 10 am but it's more like 10 pm on the planet you're on…I think it's 7:30." She added, as if she had not said anything previously.

"Standard Time?" Jolee asked.

"No, Manaan time…I think."

"Oh, it doesn't matter much, as long as you don't miss the dance."

"Yeah…I just came to see how you were."

"Is there something you want to tell me but are afraid to do it?"

"Why did you want to go to the dance with me?" Mission asked bluntly.

"Who else can I go with?"

Mission suddenly appeared disgusted. "Jolee, you're older than Carth! And Carth's old enough to be my father! You're-you're like my grandfather! That's just wrong…and it's weird…and I think I should've never said that and I should just leave."

"No, don't leave."

Mission folded her arms. "I think you're sick…_really_ sick and—"

"It's not like that."

"Th—"

"You're a sweet girl. Kind of like, if I wanted to have a granddaughter, I would want her to be like you."

Mission blinked. "I…I didn't think you…felt that way. Gosh, I feel so stupid! And…I only agreed to go with a droid just so I could avoid you…"

"You don't _have_ to go with the evil droid."

Jolee looked on so hopefully, it made Mission feel guilty.

"I'm sorry," she said, "but I already told him I would, and you know how it is to break a promise. No one trusts you afterwards."

"You didn't promise anything! Besides…it's just a droid. Do you really want to go to a dance with a droid?"

Mission folded her arms and quickly became angry. "He's not like my date! I'm just…you know…going with him."

Jolee sighed. "I'm sorry I made you angry, but can't you just give me a chance?"

Mission's features softened. "I might if you weren't so sick. You can't dance like that."

Jolee folded his arms in a defiant manner. "I will be at that dance."

"I know how you must feel, but I don't want you to get worse. You're going to have to promise me you won't go unless you really are better."

"Don't worry, I will be better." Jolee smiled.

"But still…it doesn't change anything. I'm still going with the droid."

Jolee would have said something back, but the drowsiness was wearing him thin. When Mission did not say anything more, his mind delved deeper into itself, away from reality. He cursed the additional medicine for making him so sleepy, and yet, he did not try to resist. He allowed his mind to conjure up whatever it wanted, and saw images of people dancing. They were all wearing formal attire, the men smartly dressed in suits and the women in long, flowing gowns.

_One way or another,_ _I will be there at that dance._

------------

"You do drink, don't you?"

"On occasion." Carth looked around. The cantina was very different from anything he had been to before. The walls displayed pictures of popular tourist sites on Manaan and the place was, on the whole, very clean. "I didn't think this was your kind of place."

"It really isn't. There's a better one near the docks but there's a lot of Selkath strippers…I don't think you'd like it. So what's the problem?"

"Huh?" Carth asked, still thinking about Selkath strippers.

"You wanted to speak to me about something. I assume it's about some sort of problem you have with me."

"Actually, I was just sort of hoping we could have a decent conversation."

Canderous cocked his head to one side suspiciously. "That's quite a change from all our other conversations. In fact, I thought you hated me so much, you couldn't stand being in the same room as me. Now, we're both sitting at the same table. What's this all about?"

Although it was probably futile, Carth wanted to delay telling Canderous the actual reason for speaking to him for as long as possible. "You were willing to speak to me."

"My problem with you isn't the same as yours with me. Same roots, but I never had much of a problem talking to you."

"Talk? I'd hardly consider insulting me every time I attempt to have a decent conversation talking."

A waitress stepped up to their table, holding a datapad at hand.

"Ready to order?" she asked, glancing at the two men.

"I think so," Carth replied uncertainly, looking over at Canderous.

Canderous knew exactly what he wanted. "A tall glass of warm kalendil,"

The waitress frowned. "I'm sorry, I'm not familiar with that. What is it?"

"An Outer Rim drink but…it doesn't matter. I guess I'll just have…a glass of juma juice."

"Juma juice, alright." She looked over at Carth. "And you?"

Carth had not really thought about what to drink and said the first thing he thought of. "Bith beer."

"Bith beer," she repeated. "Very good. I'll bring over your drinks shortly."

As the waitress walked away, Canderous turned in his seat, following her with his eyes. He scanned her body in a desiring way. Carth felt embarrassed sitting next to him while he was doing that and cleared his throat, but Canderous didn't seem to notice. However, he did eventually turn back around. "What do you miss most?"

"What do you mean?"

"From your life before this whole mission. Is there anything you really wish you could do right now?"

The question surprised Carth. His mind always drifted back to Telos and the life he had made there. There wasn't a day that passed where something reminded him of his home or family. At night, he would sometimes dream of being back at home, where everything was as it should be and the reality he was living now was some sort of nightmare. If anything, the so-called life he was living after his home's destruction really was nothing more than getting through each day at a time, the only hope being that he would one day kill the traitorous Admiral Karath.

"I don't know," Carth replied. Interestingly, the current mission made him feel more alive than he had felt in four years. However, there was no chance he would tell such thoughts to Canderous.

"You can't think of _anything_?"

"There's not much to miss…if I wasn't here, I would be doing all my duties as a soldier."

"No life outside being a soldier? No family?"

Carth frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I thought the question was pretty clear…do you have any relatives? Wife? Kids?"

It relieved Carth that no one had yet told Canderous about his loss and decided to keep it that way. "No, no family."

"Huh. Thought you were the family kind. But really, there's _nothing_ you miss?"

"I guess there really isn't." Carth hesitated. It seemed like Canderous was expecting a specific answer but Carth was uncertain what it could be. Instead, he decided to switch the conversation back to him. "What about you?"

"Well, there're a lot of things, but currently…" Canderous looked back at one of the waitresses by a nearby table, "sex."

"How surprising," Carth mumbled.

"I'm serious. There's never any time. Our first stop was Jedi-infested Dantooine, no chance there, and after that was Kashyyyk and the only things there are trees, tachs, Wookiees…and Czerka. Then, it's off to Tatooine where the weather's so hot that you really don't feel much like doing any physical exertions—"

"I get the point," Carth interrupted. Perhaps he would not have to lie to Bastila if he told her Canderous was an irritating person without any prospect for change.

"You do understand what I'm saying, right?" Canderous continued. "I mean…have you had any?"

"Why do you care what I've been doing?" Carth snapped. "It's personal and has nothing to do with you."

"You don't have to get so huffy about it. I'm just making certain."

Carth raised his eyebrows. "Making certain of what, exactly?"

"That we're both…in the same position…" Canderous hesitated. "What I've actually been meaning to say is that you aren't particularly close to anyone on the ship, are you?"

Carth sighed. "I'm going to be very blunt with you because I don't think there's any other way I can say this…truthfully, the only reason I'm talking to you is as a favor for Bastila."

Canderous raised his eyebrows. Carth was about to continue but a man approached their table, followed by the waitress behind him. Carth noted the man wore a nametag, labeling him as "manager."

"Sorry to intrude," he said to Carth, "but your acquaintance must leave."

"If this has something to do with disruptive behavior," Carth began, giving Canderous a side glance, but the manager shook his head.

"I won't allow a Mandalorian in this establishment."

"You guys, too," Canderous said bitterly. "We didn't even attack Manaan! What do you care about us?"

"As a matter of fact, I'm not a native here." The manager's voice took on a darker tone. "I was a Serrocon until your people trampled all over our planet."

Canderous pressed his lips together, giving the manager a challenging stare, planning on further insults.

"We're just here for a drink," Carth said slowly, looking back and forth between the two. "Just one, then we're gone."

"I won't tolerate such a subhuman creature in _my_ establishment!"

"'Subhuman creature?'" Canderous asked, smirking slightly. "Isn't that sort of redundant?"

"No, it isn't, you barbarian," the manager said slowly, his face beginning to flush. "Creature implies something animalistic while subhuman means something low and distasteful."

"We're leaving," Carth said quickly, standing up. He looked over at Canderous. "Let's get out of here. There're other places we can go here."

Canderous stood up, but still glared at the waiter. "Didn't really feel much like dining out at a place that's run by a Serrocon." He seemed like he was not going to say anything else but then added, "Your people put up a pathetic resistance."

"Come on, let's go," Carth insisted. "We don't want any trouble."

Carth began to walk towards the door, followed by Canderous.

"It was the drink, wasn't it?" Canderous whispered to him.

"What?"

"I tried to order a Mandalorian drink but the _waitress_ said they didn't have any! She probably told him!"

Carth quickened his pace. "I don't want to stick around these bigoted people."

They exited the cantina. Canderous was still looking behind him, but then faced forward. His face was stoic as anger rose in him. Meanwhile, Carth was glancing about, uncertain exactly where to go next when Canderous stopped and turned back to face the cantina.

"Son of a bitch!" Canderous shouted.

"Can you calm down?" Carth said, annoyed. "We can get arrested for the way you're acting!"

Canderous folded his arms. "Have you ever been denied services for being Republic?"

"That's not the issue; it's how you deal with it."

"So…I'm just supposed to stand for that?"

"Look, is it really all that unbelievable? Think about it—your people invaded our space and brutally attacked planets inhabited by millions, billions of people. Not all them were soldiers, most of which didn't want to fight or die, and a great majority on those planets were civilians with homes and families, only wanting to live out a normal—"

"You too," Canderous mumbled.

"What? "

"Now you're being the prejudiced bastard," Canderous said curtly.

"Me? You're not exactly an innocent victim! You were a part of that force that invaded us! You…" Carth hesitated. So many thoughts were racing back and forth that it was difficult to formulate them into words. "You not only participated, you still consider yourself a warrior and take pride in what you did. You're _proud_ of what you did!"

Canderous shifted himself so his shoulders faced squarely with Carth's and gave him a hard stare. "You think you're so good, so self-righteous, but you aren't. It's the same problem I have with Bastila. You both think you're so much better than anyone else, that you're _so_ moral and always know what's right for everyone."

"You're wrong," Carth said, seriously, "I don't think I'm better than everyone else…I just happen to know that I'm better than _you_."

Canderous clenched his fists. "You're always going to be the perfect soldier. Always doing the right thing because that's what Republic propaganda tells you, but don't think for a second that you know _anything_ about me!"

There was a momentary pause between them, enough for time for another voice to speak. "Will you two stop it?!"

Carth and Canderous turned to Ayla, her arms folded across her chest in an evident irritated manner.

"I can't believe the way you two go at it!" she said, looking from one to the other. "I know why you don't get along, and I don't expect you two to end up being best friends after all this is over, but you could at least have some decency and not fight like this, especially not in public!"

Carth glanced about him, realizing he had caught the attention of quite a few pedestrians. However, what embarrassed him even more was that Ayla was the one who had caught him arguing. He was about to apologize but Canderous spoke.

"I know," he said, his voice taking on a softer tone. "Bickering is immature and…I'm the one to blame."

Carth was dumbfounded. Seeing Canderous in such a placated state, not attempting to retort at Ayla—even admitting he was at fault—shocked Carth. Canderous was no longer taking on the role as the proud Mandalorian warrior, but rather, he was accepting Ayla's words and humbled by them. Carth realized then that the possibility of a different, more cooperative and nicer Canderous was not some distant wish.

--------------------------

Bastila turned her head from the command console the instant she heard footsteps. She was pleased, but also nervous to see Carth entering the cockpit.

"Carth," she said as she set down a datapad, "I have been meaning to talk to you."

"So have I," Carth said. He seated himself in his pilot's chair. "I've spoken to Canderous and…he still treated me like his enemy during the entire course of our conversation. No matter what I did, he just couldn't see past it. I was going to report that to you and suggest against him going to the dance, but then Ayla came and she…she was able to talk to him, make him calm down and _admit_ that he was wrong to treat me like he did."

Bastila seemed pleased with the news and even flashed a small smile. "Then we should allow Ayla to go to the dance with him. She may leave an impression on him and perhaps he can do more chores on the ship if she were the one to ask it of him."

Bastila was silent, her mind racing. _Should I…or shouldn't I?_

"I suppose it's a good thing," Carth said, although it sounded forced. "I'm not fond of Canderous, but it's like you said. It could help with the way he conducts himself toward us."

Carth stood up from the pilot's chair and began to walk away. Bastila watched after him, feeling the nervousness reach a breaking point. _It's now or never…_

"Carth."

Carth turned around, his attention back on the Jedi. Bastila took a deep breath before speaking any further.

"Are you going to the dance?"

Carth blinked, surprised to hear such a question coming from Bastila.

"No, no I'm not."

"Oh…well…do you not like dances or…is there some other reason?"

"I…It's not that I don't like dances, it's just that I wouldn't like going alone."

Bastila cleared her throat. "First, I must apologize for my rude behavior towards you throughout the course of the mission. It was completely unfounded. I must also say that I truly appreciate that you spoke to Canderous, although you do not like him, and were willing to set aside your feelings and agree to his attending the dance with Ayla. So, about the dance itself, I believe you should attend the dance and…a certain someone would greatly appreciate it if you went with her…"


	12. Chapter 12: Saturday Morning, 3am

Chapter 12: Saturday Morning, 3 am

Day 3: The Dance

Manaan was still dark, but T3-M4 was still rolling along the sparsely populated walkways. Although the dance was still some five hours away, every second would be needed to get HK ready for the big day. Ever since they separated in front of the tuxedo clothing store, T3 had not had any form of contact with it since. HK had not made an appearance back at the _Ebon Hawk_ and was not back in the store the last time T3 looked. Constantly, T3 had attempted using a communicator, but HK never responded.

T3 was rounding a corner when HK was standing right in front of him, wearing a stylish tuxedo. T3 beeped with relief and joy, expressing how much it had worried, then anger that HK had not bothered to contact it.

"Statement: I do not understand why you expect me to give you a step-by-step process of my progress. I have been most successful, as is evidenced by my attire."

T3 then noticed HK was holding a small bouquet of flowers. It gave a series of beeps, saying how surprised it was to see the HK had become so involved with the whole process.

Although barely noticeable, HK's eyes dulled slightly and spoke, saying words as if they were being read from a datapad. "I can tell that the Shlekfest this year will be one of the best and I look forward to attending it."

T3 gave a few confused beeps. Had HK been to other Shlekfests in order to make such a statement?

"Statement: I do not have the time to talk to you," HK said, ignoring its question. "I must prepare. I will return to the _Ebon Hawk_."

While HK headed off in the direction of the ship, T3 remained where it was for a moment before deciding to follow it.

A/N: I realize this chapter is short. Basically, it's a teaser and should stand by itself. My next chapter should be much longer. Feel free to send reviews with any ideas.


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